


From the Start

by allwaswell16



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, American Harry Styles, American Louis Tomlinson, Anal Sex, Art, Birthday, Chicago (City), Christmas, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drinking, Emotional Manipulation, Engagement, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fan Art, Instagram, Jealousy, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mistletoe, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, Oral Sex, Party, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed, Smut, Social Media, Teacher Louis Tomlinson, Winter, artwork by wilywolf, by Louis' ex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-13 17:54:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 32,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21498130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allwaswell16/pseuds/allwaswell16
Summary: Louis has no idea that one act of kindness will cause his life to spiral out of control. But that's what happens when his new friend fake proposes to him and a video of it goes viral.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 179
Kudos: 1103
Collections: 28 Proposals Fic Fest





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my beta, taggiecb, as always for holding my hand through the writing of this fic. Your encouragement always keeps me going! <3
> 
> Thank you to [Lauren](https://kingsofeverything.tumblr.com/) for modding this fest! I've had this idea rattling around in my head since March, and this fest gave me the excuse to write it. <3
> 
> Huge thank you to [wilywolf](https://wilywolf.tumblr.com/) for the absolutely amazing artwork. I love it so much! <3

Louis rolls his eyes and makes a face even though no one can see it. “Fine, Liam, I promise not to spend my whole night wallowing in self-pity.”

He hears a snort on the other end of the line. “That’s not at all what I said, and you know it. I just think hanging out with Niall and Zayn is going to help. Take your mind off things for a little bit at least. I’m not in any way saying you should just magically be over him, but I think you deserve a break, don’t you?”

Louis sighs. “I already said, fine. You don’t need to persuade me with your lawyering tactics.”

Liam laughs, and Louis feels a pang in his chest. He misses having that laugh in person. It’s only been a month since he’s seen his best friend, but it doesn’t stop him from missing Liam’s concerned face and tight hugs especially now that he’s been dumped. He face plants on his bed, Liam’s voice still in his ear.

“I’m not a lawyer yet. Anyway, just try to have some fun with the guys tonight, okay? Play some darts or some pool. School a few college kids.”

Louis smiles into his mattress. He turns his head so that Liam will be able to hear him speak. “With who, Niall? He’ll probably whack me across the knees with his pool cue again.”

Liam laughs again. “One time. That happened one time when he’d been drinking too much Irish whiskey. Wasn’t that St. Patrick’s Day?”

Louis snorts. “Yeah, it was. Just saying, wish you were here.”

“Sap,” Liam accuses, but Louis can hear the smile in his voice. “Wish I was there, too, bro. But you’re going to be okay, Tommo. I promise. Everything is going to be okay. It’s just going to take time to get over that asshole.”

He laughs a little at the venom that creeps into Liam’s voice when he talks about Louis’ ex. Louis’ laugh came out a little watery though. “Love you, Li.” 

“Love you, too, Lou. Listen, anytime you have a long weekend free, come visit again. Now, go have some fun tonight, yeah?”

“Yeah, you, too. Have some _ Harvard _ fun for me.” He says it in an exaggerated Boston accent.

“Gonna go candlepin bowling.”

“Okay, nerd.”

“Whatever, you had fun bowling when you were here.”

“Sure, sure.” He really had, but that had more to do with hanging out with Liam than anything else. 

He pulls open his closet doors as soon as he presses end on the call, looking through his clothes for something that doesn’t make him look like a guy who’s just been dumped. He sighs. He _ is _ a guy who’s just been dumped. Looking longingly at the sweaters in his closet, he forgoes wearing them for a tight t shirt and his roommate’s leather jacket. 

Slumping back onto his bed without doing his hair, he tells himself it looks fine soft like this. He doesn’t move again until Niall buzzes his door. 

“Hey, Lou! Looking good, my friend, looking good! Like this leather on you. Very bad boy with a motorcycle thing you’ve got going on.”

“I teach first grade, and I take a bus to work.” He tugs at the sleeve of his jacket. “This is Miles’, but he never wears it anyway.”

“It’s a _ look _ though. Miles is never around, and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” Niall sprawls out on the couch and pretends he’s not glancing around the apartment at the mess. “So we’re meeting Zayn and maybe Enes if he gets off practice early enough.”

“Mm,” he mumbles, thinking about the repercussions of Enes showing up with his entourage of Bulls teammates and hangers on. The hazards of having a friend dating an NBA player.

Niall must know what he’s thinking. “You know Enes hates him, right? He’s not gonna show up with him even if he wasn’t your ex. He always thought Justin was a douche.”

Louis shrugs as though he doesn’t care whether Zayn’s boyfriend shows up with Justin in tow. He knows Niall is right though. Enes never liked Justin, although he always assumed it was just an extension of how Zayn felt about him. Justin was enough of a manipulative ass kisser that he got along well enough with most of the Bulls players after working for the Bulls publicity team for a few years.

What could he have been thinking, staying with Justin as long as he did? He rubs a hand over his face. All his friends had disliked him. His relationship had been just one giant red flag. Doesn’t mean he isn’t still fucked up about it though.

“So--you eaten?” Niall sounds casual enough, but he can tell he’s being eyed carefully. 

He decides against lying. “No. Not really.”

“Well, let’s go grab some Big Macs then. Sound good?”

“Sure, Nialler.”

The bar at Soundtrack is jam packed. A typical Saturday night crowd gathers around the bar on one level and the dance floor on another. He can’t see the rooftop right now, but it stays open through November most years, heated by outdoor heat lamps when necessary. He’s not really feeling up for this level of socializing, but he’s here and it’s too late to back out. 

“I think I see someone from school!” Niall yells into his ear to be heard above the noise.

“High school?”

“No, college!”

“Really? From Arizona? That’s weird.” 

“Yeah, it is! You wanna grab the first round? I’m gonna go see if it’s really Harry over there.”

“Sure.” Niall heads off into the crowd, and Louis makes his way towards the bar. The old Louis would have pushed his way in a little, batted his eyelashes a few times and had immediate service, but the Louis he’s become hangs back. He’s in no rush to talk to some college friend of Niall’s. And to be perfectly honest, he hasn’t felt like himself in a while, always trying to be the right person for his now ex boyfriend. 

He scans the room, just people watching. The churning sea of bodies begins to blend together when his eyes land on the last face he wants to see tonight. 

There entering the bar is his ex. A short burst of adrenaline flows through his body as he turns in the opposite direction and darts off, weaving his way through the press of people and away from Justin. If possible, he would have run right out of the place and texted Niall on his way home in an Uber. Unfortunately, that’s not an option with Justin blocking his way out of here.

His panic takes him all the way into the bathroom before he’s able to truly think things through. He stands with his back pressed against the door, panting, when he notices the lock. He clicks it forwards and then slumps to the ground, his head in his arms. Great. Everything is fucking great. He’s locked himself in a club bathroom of all places. Real smart,Tommo.

“Umm--hi?”

Louis’ head whips up at the sound of the voice. 

There’s a quite spectacular looking guy standing at the sinks, tall with floppy brown hair that curls over his ears and a very confused expression on his quite handsome face. Louis isn’t sure how he didn’t notice there was someone in here, much less someone who looks like this. Tight jeans and half buttoned shirt and--tattoos. Practically his dream man.

“Did you just lock us in here?” Louis’ dream man asks. He looks curious but calm about being locked in a bathroom with a stranger.

“Maybe.”

“Okay,” Dream man says with a shrug and leans against the nearest sink. 

“Just--okay? You’re not going to try to leave or ask why I’ve locked us in here?”

Dream man shrugs again. “I figure you must have a good reason. It doesn’t hurt that you’re--you know.”

“Weird? Losing it? Clearly in need of mental help?”

“Hot.”

“Oh.”

Dream man grins. He’s got dimples. Dimples make him weak. His ex does not have dimples. 

Louis clears his throat. “Well, unfortunately, I’m hiding from my ex in here. I’d love an excuse to not talk to him, if you want to--you know.”

“Go to dinner? Spend the weekend together? Go on a romantic trip to Paris?”

“Get a drink with me.”

Dream man puts a finger to his chin as if he’s thinking about it. What a dork. He’s very cute like this.

“You’re very cute like this,” Louis tells him.

Dream man smiles. Louis thinks he might like making this man smile like this. Dimples are a good reward for making someone smile. 

“Thank you. And yes, I’d love to get a drink with you--” Dream man raises his eyebrows waiting for Louis to fill in the blank.

“Louis.”

“Harry,” Dream man replies. 

He reaches out a hand and helps pull Louis to his feet. He doesn’t let go. “So how soon before I can ask you to fly to Paris with me?”

Louis’ lips twist, hiding a smile. “Check back with me in the morning.”

Harry waggles his eyebrows ridiculously. “Oh, are we spending the night together then?”

“We’ll see if you play your cards right, Harry.”

“Ah, a challenge. I like it. Let me buy you a drink then.” Harry unclicks the lock and releases his hand only to place it at the small of Louis’ back, leading him back towards the bar.

“Oh shit. I’m supposed to be buying a round for Niall. Er--Niall’s a friend. I’m here with a friend tonight. Just friends.” Christ, has he said _ friend _ enough?

Harry doesn’t comment on it, although a small smile curves one side of his lips. “Niall? There can’t possibly be two Nialls here. I was just talking to a friend of mine from college named Niall. Are our Nialls the same Niall?”

Louis turns a surprised look on him. “Oh! Maybe? Did you go to Arizona?”

“I did. How about I buy the first round, and we find our mutual Niall?”

“Sounds good.”

By the time they find Niall on the rooftop telling a story to a table full of people only half of whom Louis recognizes, he appears to have already had a few drinks. Currently, he’s waving around a Guinness as he tells a now familiar story of caddying at a pro am tournament and embarrassing himself on national television. 

The rooftop is a good place for a story like this. The music isn’t quite so loud up here where it has space to drift off into the night. He glances at Harry who gives him a wink and stops at a small round table with bar stools near where Niall continues to regale his rapt audience with his dramatics. 

They sit, turning to listen to the rest of Niall’s story. Zayn catches his eye from across the roof, giving him a nod and a look. They’re the kind of friends who can communicate like this, and after fifteen years of friendship, he knows that Zayn wants to know what’s up with the man sitting closely beside him. He just shrugs his answer with a small smile on his face. 

Enes hasn’t arrived yet with his ever present entourage, but when he does, the rooftop’s going to be a lot more crowded with onlookers. He’s the only NBA player who is out, but some of his teammates have no problem accompanying him to gay bars like Soundtrack. It always causes a bit of a stir around Boystown when they show up.

Chatter starts back up as soon the story wraps up, and Harry angles himself to face him. 

“You know, you look familiar now that I think about it. Did you ever come visit Niall in Arizona?”

“Oh, yeah a few times actually. I’d usually come out for a concert, and we’d drive in to Phoenix. But one time I went to this wild house party there. Maybe I saw you there? God, forgot all about that, but there was this one dude that fucking jumped off the roof of the house into a swimming pool. I thought he was gonna die, but he climbed out like it was no big deal, all his clothes soaking wet. Then, he went around giving people hugs--”

“Oh god.” Harry covers his face with his hands.

“No--you? Really?” Louis laughs and covers his mouth at the loud sound he’s made. He stares at Harry trying to picture the guy who jumped off the roof that night. “Your hair was longer then, but damn, yeah it was you.”

“I’m afraid so. I swear that was the one and only time I even did something like that! I can’t believe that’s the night you saw me. What I do remember of that night is that I was trying to get someone’s attention.” Harry groans, but his eyes twinkle in the lamp light. Green maybe. Louis’ always liked green eyes.

“Well, you moved on fast.”

Louis hadn’t even realized how close he and Harry’s faces were to each other until they both jerk apart at the cutting voice beside them. Justin’s lips are curled into a sneer, and Louis can feel his face flushing with heat despite the chill in the air. He glances at Harry and sees his jaw tighten, though his eyes look concerned. Whatever Harry sees on his face provokes a response.

Harry stands up from the table, his chair scraping against the rooftop. “Is there a problem?”

Harry’s voice rumbles deep from his chest. He’s a good few inches taller than Justin, which Louis knows Justin must hate. It’s not that Harry’s a threatening type of person, but there’s a dark look on his face. The muscles of his arms flex as he crosses them over his chest. 

Justin backs up a step. “Good luck getting a commitment out of this one. He’ll throw you out just like he did me.”

Louis is momentarily stunned by these words that make no sense to him and doesn’t manage to speak until Justin’s already turned around. 

“_ You _ broke up with _ me _, dickhead!” He calls out after his retreating figure. He sits back down, a little dazed. 

“Well,” Harry begins, the smile already back on his face. “Wouldn’t want to keep going out with a dickhead anyway.”

Louis gives him a weak smile in return, but his brain whirls a bit as he tries to make sense of what just happened. Why would Justin even say that? Why did he bring up commitment? Is this because he hadn’t wanted to move in together yet? He just hadn’t wanted to let Miles down when Miles and his family have done so much for him. And he wasn’t going to cancel that trip he made to Boston to see Liam just because Justin wanted him to go to yet another Bulls game with him. 

It definitely sheds new light on their breakup.

He murmurs a thank you to Harry and sips his drink, but his mind stays occupied the rest of the night. Niall appears at the table, and Zayn scurries over as well. They don’t say anything, but he can tell by the look on their faces that they saw the confrontation. 

He’s never been so glad to see Enes as he is when he appears. He walks in with at least ten people, and everyone’s attention turns away from him and the small scene Justin’s just caused. 

The night moves on with Louis stuck close to Niall’s side. He feels the gaze of green eyes whenever he looks up, but whatever flirtation they’d struck up, it had ended rather abruptly with Justin’s words.

After a long day of teaching first graders and pretending his personal life isn’t a mess, he drags himself up the flight of steps of the brownstone. While he’s at work his mind is kept busy. There’s no time to dwell on himself when there are twenty-four six year olds who need your attention all day. But the commute home gives him too much time for his thoughts to turn over in his head, tumbling around in various directions. 

He has a missed call from Justin today. 

The only contact he’s had with him since their breakup was the incident at Soundtrack. There’s a voicemail waiting to be listened to, and he’s been holding out until he’s alone to listen to it. He bites his thumb nail as he dumps his school bag full of ungraded papers onto the floor next to his shoes.

His heart pounds a little harder as he pulls his phone out of his pocket and slumps onto the couch. His stomach flips over in his belly as he presses voicemail and the sound of Justin’s voice hits him like a ton of bricks.

_ You know, a phone’s original purpose is so people can talk to each other. But I can’t talk to you if you won’t pick up the phone. Are you really not answering my calls anymore? Don’t you think that’s a little childish? We meant a lot to each other, and I think we should talk about this--about us--like adults. I can’t just turn my feelings off for you, Louis. _

Louis throws the phone onto the cushion beside him as if it suddenly burns red hot. He races to the bathroom, heaving into the toilet though nothing actually comes up. He’d honestly thought he was about to vomit. Fuck, it still hurts. He can’t turn off his feelings either. He can feel the pull, but he’s in no condition to call Justin back right now.

He sits, sprawled out on the tiled floor of the bathroom, one hand still on the toilet. His stomach still roiling with emotion, he does the only thing he can think of. He heaves himself up and makes his way back to his phone to text Liam to call him when he’s out of class. It takes a few minutes for his mind to clear enough to think of Niall. He scrolls his contacts with shaky fingers looking for his name.

Niall answers immediately, and he can barely get out the words he wants to say. “Hey, Nialler. I’m sort of--not okay.”

“Lou, what’s going on?”

His heart and mind are so fucked up that unnoticed tears stream down his face until he hears Niall’s response. It’s only then he can feel the wet heat of them on his face.

“Um, I got a voicemail from Justin.”

“You okay to get over here? I’ll call Zayn to pick up ice cream on his way here. Don’t take the bus. I repeat, do noy take the bus. Get an Uber. I’ll call Gino’s East and get a pizza. I expect to see your face in approximately twenty minutes. Don’t worry about whatever work you brought home. It can wait a day.”

“I--” He wipes the tears from his face, a smile that Niall can’t see slowly forming on his face at Niall’s call to action. “Thanks. I’ll see you in twenty.”

He walks back into the bathroom to splash cold water on his face before getting an Uber to head to Niall’s. 

When he arrives, he’s pulled into a tight hug that makes him a little weepy again. Zayn’s already there, looking concerned behind Niall.

“It’s gonna be okay, Lou,” Zayn murmurs. “You’ve got us. It’s gonna be okay.”

“Yeah?” It comes out more like a question than he meant.

The pizza arrives, and they eat under Niall’s watchful eye. 

“You know I would have brought tequila,” Zayn begins. “But I know you’re like responsible and shit. Figured you didn’t want to get fucked up on a school night.”

Louis snorts, but Zayn’s right. He has obligations that he has every intention of fulfilling. He can’t teach first grade properly while hung over. 

“Anyway, I brought mint chocolate chip and Cherry Garcia and pistachio. So you can have whatever flavor--”

Niall interrupts. “Pistachio? What the fuck did you bring pistachio for? Why so much green ice cream?”

“Shut up. I like pistachio, okay? I’ll take pistachio if no one else wants it.”

Louis smiles a little as Zayn wanders over towards the door. “I’ll take the mint.”

Niall rounds on him. “You’re both weird. Who likes green ice cream? Unnatural. Cherry Garcia’s fine though. Thank god, you’ve both left me the only normal flavor.”

Zayn pulls open a backpack he’s brought with him. “Should we watch Top Gun, The Notebook, or Iron Man?”

“That’s quite the collection of comfort movies you’ve brought with you there.”

“They’re Enes’.” Zayn shrugs. 

“So before we watch a movie--” Niall begins.

Louis drops the spoon Niall’s just handed him and gets a new one from the drawer before following Zayn into the living room with his ice cream. “Um--maybe I’ll just play you the message. Might be easier than me telling you what it says. Not even sure I remember everything he said.”

Zayn and Niall just exchange short glances, and Louis pulls out his phone. He wishes he could leave the room and not listen to it again, afraid to hear the words in that familiar voice again. But he stays and plays the message.

“What a fucking piece of--”

“Manipulative asshole, mother f--”

Louis lets out a strangled laugh. Zayn continues to pace the room, but Niall plops down beside him on the living room couch. 

“You don’t owe him anything, Lou.”

“Yeah, but he’s right that we haven’t really talked about it.”

Zayn snorts. “What’s there to talk about? He dumped you because he’s so fucking jealous that he forbid you to go see your best friend during your break, and you disobeyed him.”

Louis stiffens. It sounds so bad when Zayn says it like that. 

“I don’t like how he’s talking to you in that message,” Niall says. “Of course, you didn’t answer your phone. You were working. It’s shitty to call you childish over not being at his beck and call. You aren’t together anymore, and that was his choice not yours. If you want to talk to him to get closure or something, that’s fine. But be prepared to deal with him talking in circles.”

Louis leans his head back far enough to look at the ceiling. Justin definitely talks in circles. It’s so fucked up, he can see that now--how bad it was between them. 

“I do want to talk to him,” he admits. “But I don’t know if it’s a good idea. He just seemed like the right guy for me, you know? I worked so hard,_ so hard, _to make things work between us.”

He can feel the tears in his throat, threatening and close.

“I know you did,” Niall says quietly. “But he isn’t the guy you thought he was. It’s not supposed to be this hard. The right guy will make it a lot easier to be with him.”

Niall’s right. He knows he is. Justin just looks like the right guy, the kind you take home to meet your family and plan your future with. He’s charming and got a good job and volunteers and says things you want to hear. But somehow, everything Louis did was not enough for him. And everything that went wrong was always somehow twisted around on itself until it became Louis’ fault. He’s even somehow made their breakup Louis’ fault, saying it’s because of his lack of commitment. 

“I think--” Louis takes a deep breath. “I’m not ready to talk to him now. Maybe not ever. I’m still confused because the one thing that’s true in that message is that I can’t just turn my feelings off. But I just don’t want to think about them for the rest of tonight at least. Can we watch a movie now?”

“Yeah, yeah, we can do that.” Zayn fiddles with the Blu-Ray discs and starts putting one in. 

Niall pulls his own phone out of his pocket and frowns at whatever is on the screen. “Damn.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I forgot I told Harry to stop by tonight for a beer. I’ll text him not to come. No worries.”

“Oh, um--sorry, I--”

“Don’t be sorry, Lou,” Niall insists. “We’re your friends. ‘Course I can cancel plans to hang out when you need me.”

“Hey, it’s okay. Um--I mean, if Harry wants to still come over, but for ice cream and movies instead.”

Niall hesitates. “You sure?”

“Yeah, he’s new in town, and yeah. He’s okay, Harry. I talked to him quite a bit at Soundtrack that night. He’s a good guy.”

He sees a look pass between Zayn and Niall again, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Okay, well if you’re sure. I think he’s a bit lonely since moving here.”

Niall texts a few things and then tosses his phone onto the ottoman in front of them. “Let The Notebook begin!”

Zayn snorts. “I put in Top Gun.”

“Oh. Let the homoerotic volleyball scenes begin!”

They don’t make it very far into the movie before there’s a buzz at the door, and Harry enters carrying a reusable grocery bag. “Hey, guys. Thanks for letting me crash your movie night. I brought more ice cream.”

“I hope it’s not all _ green _ ice cream,” Niall says with an accusatory look at Zayn.

Zayn rolls his eyes.

“Green? Like mint chocolate chip? I did bring that because it’s my favorite, but I also brought chocolate and fudge ripple.”

Louis smiles. “That’s my favorite, too. Mint chocolate chip.”

Harry turns a toothy grin on him that fades the longer he looks at Louis. Concern now etches itself into lines creasing Harry’s forehead. Louis looks away.

“So what are we watching?” Harry asks brightly as he takes the lone chair in the room, leaving Zayn and Niall to sandwich Louis on the couch. “Oh man, Top Gun? Haven’t seen that in forever. I always liked when they randomly play volleyball.”

The three of them on the couch burst into loud laughter that makes Harry jump back. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Louis gasps. It feels good to laugh after having an emotional cry today. “It’s just--let me level with you, Harry. We’re here because my ex left me a voicemail today and these two thought I needed to drown myself in this carton of mint chocolate ice cream and homoerotic volleyball scenes. So this is what you’ve walked in on. I hope you’re okay with that.”

Harry gives him a smile and nods. It’s a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, a little sad or maybe just wistful. “That guy doesn’t deserve you,” Harry murmurs, his voice almost mournful. But then, that seems to be the constant tone of his voice. Best to not read too much into it. 

They eat ice cream and have a laugh through Top Gun, and Louis leaves feeling like maybe he really can make it through all this. He’s got a missed call from Liam that he’ll return when he gets home. But in the Uber, he can’t help but think on the way Harry’s gaze kept catching his own. 

He shakes his head. He’s not ready for a relationship just yet. And Harry seems great. He deserves someone who’s ready to dive in head first, and that’s certainly not Louis right now. He’s just sorry Harry has to see him like this. He definitely won’t be interested by the time Louis makes it through this getting over someone stage. But maybe he and Harry aren’t destined for a romance, maybe this is the beginning of a great friendship. And he thinks he might be okay with that actually. The thought comforts him as he walks up the steps of his brownstone already scrolling his contacts for Liam’s number.

“Hey, Li. Just getting home from Niall’s.--Yeah, I’m okay.--I’ll tell you the whole thing in a second, but I’m just really grateful for my friends today.”


	2. Chapter 2

One month later

The glass doors of Taboon swing open to usher Louis inside out of the deepening cold of November along the lake. Although Enes can’t even be here tonight, he’s procured a table for them. Being one of the restaurant’s investors has its perks. The place bustles with the energy that always comes with a newly opened restaurant. The loud hum of voices, the clinking of glasses and silverware, waiters whisking trays quickly from kitchen to table and back again. His fingers smooth over the hair that he sweeps across his forehead as he gazes over the starkly white tablecloths and candlelight searching for familiar faces. 

Across the room, he sees the back of a head of distinctly floppy brown curls and a wide set of shoulders covered by an almost garish floral patterned shirt. Probably some expensive brand from work. Smiling, he weaves his way through the tables until he reaches Harry. 

Louis slides into the seat directly across from Harry. “Hey, Hazza. No Niall or Zayn yet, huh?”

Harry’s lips fall open a little, and it takes a few beats too long for him to respond. 

“Uhh--yeah. I mean, no. They’re not here yet. You look--” Harry clears his throat, his cheeks flushed a bit pink. Louis wonders if he’s feeling okay. Maybe he’s picked up a cold. “You look great in black.”

“Oh yeah? Thanks! Means a lot coming from you. Sorry it’s not _ designer _ like yours,” he teases. “Can’t really afford Gucci on a teacher’s salary.”

Harry frowns. “You don’t have to wear Gucci to look amazing. Clearly.”

Louis beams at him. “Flatterer. The shirt’s from Topman. Sorry, can’t really afford to go to Selley’s for my wardrobe.”

Harry’s frown doesn’t lift. “You know we have so many samples that would fit you. I should--”

Louis shakes his head. “No, no, no, no. I wasn’t trying to get free clothes out of you, Harold. I promise.”

“You’d look so good in Stella McCartney’s fall line though.” Harry rests an elbow on the table and plops his chin into his hand and sighs. “When’s your birthday again?”

“Fine, you can get me something fancy for my birthday,” Louis snorts. “It’s--”

Louis’ tongue stills instantly at the sight of the couple walking into the restaurant.

“Louis? Are you okay?”

It must be written all over his face how not okay he is right now. Justin’s walking in, hand in hand, with his ex-girlfriend. There’s a charming smile on Justin’s face as he pulls out Kate’s chair for her. Kate, who Justin had only terrible things to say about for the entire year he and Justin had been together.

A lead weight presses down on Louis’ chest, making it hard to even breathe. The hurt feels too raw and new to even think about dating someone, and it didn’t even take Justin two months to get over him. Fuck, how long have they been back together? He just feels like such a fool. He can feel the tears begin to choke him as Harry keeps asking him if he’s okay in varying degrees of panic. 

“I’m--it’s just--” He lets out a shaky breath and tries to smile through the pain. “I can’t really go hide and lock us in the bathroom again right now is all.”

Harry looks mystified. “What?”

“Justin,” Louis says quietly, just loud enough for Harry to hear and no one else.

Harry whips his head around, eyes narrowing, at Justin’s back. “Is he here on a date?” Harry hisses.

“That’s his ex.”

Harry’s head whips back around to face Louis, his eyes wide. “Fucking dickhead.”

Louis wipes a hand over his face. “I just didn’t expect--he was always comparing us. Like he was warning me not to be like her. And then as soon as he breaks up with me, he’s back with her.”

“Hey, Lou. Just--look at me for a second.” 

There’s a buzz in Louis’ head, but Harry’s voice manages to break through it. “It’s going to be okay, Lou. Just focus on me, okay?”

He tries. He looks deep into Harry’s eyes and tries to focus on their clear, green depths. Harry is just so lovely. Lovely eyes and lovely hair and a lovely smile and a lovely heart. Why couldn’t he have moved on quickly with Harry? If only he wasn’t such a mess that night they met. A watery smile crosses his face at the memory of Harry asking him to run away to Paris with him. 

Harry’s larger hand reaches across the table and takes his in a light clasp. “I wish I could do something to make this better.”

“Thanks for being so nice, Harry.”

Harry shrugs. “Maybe I’m not that nice. What if I told you I was sitting here thinking of ways to get revenge on your ex?”

A bubble of sudden laughter erupts from Louis’ throat. “Revenge? You’re sitting here plotting, are you?”

“Yeah, I am.” Harry gives him a wicked grin. “Okay, if he ends up noticing you’re here, I’ve thought of a way to ruin his night. Just signal me somehow. Like--I don’t know--squeeze my knee. And I’ll put the plan into action. All you’ll have to do is play along.”

Louis can’t help but smile back at the look on Harry’s face. He leans in across the table as though they’re sharing secrets. Somehow, Harry’s managed to lighten everything about this. “Sure. Whatever. I’m in.”

“Good.” Harry motions for a waiter. “A bottle of Dom Perignon, please. Thank you.”

“What are you doing? That has to cost like--I don’t even know because I don’t ever pretend I can afford to drink it.”

“It’s fine. Didn’t you already tease me about my Gucci shirt tonight? I’ve got money for champagne, Louis.”

“Oh my god, are you really wearing Gucci? What the fuck?”

Harry honks his distinctive laugh that always makes Louis feel like he’s done something right even if Harry always slaps a hand over his mouth to smother the sound. Movement at the door draws his eye, and he sees Niall and Zayn enter the restaurant and begin making their way towards the table.

Justin must have seen them at the same moment because his head is already turning to watch them walk towards Louis. A wave of panic washes over him, but in the moment, he’s only able to remember one thing. 

He places his hand on Harry’s knee and squeezes. 

Harry jerks at the touch, and it takes a few seconds before recognition dawns on his face. A huge smile crosses it, dimples creasing into his cheeks. God, Louis’ loves his dimples. Harry slides a ring off one of his fingers and slides out of his chair.

Louis can’t take his eyes off him. What’s he going to do? Cause a scene so Louis can escape? Pull a fire alarm? Why’d he take his ring off? 

Oh.

Everything seems to move in slow motion now, Harry settling on to one knee in front of him as he takes Louis’ hand. 

“Louis, these last months have been the very best months of my life. I know we haven’t known each other long, but I already know I want to spend the rest of my life with you, learning everything there is to know about you. I already know the important things--your beautiful soul and your kind heart, your way with children and your incredible generosity. You’re quite obviously the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met, but that’s not why I’m falling in love with you. I’m in love with the way you make people smile and the way you touch your hair when you’re nervous. I love that you eat cereal for any meal of the day. I could talk all night about the things I love about you. I can only hope that you’ve begun to see something in me. I do know how to make you laugh, and I know how to hug you when you cry. And I want to be the man who keeps learning you, the good and the bad, forever. Louis Tomlinson, will you marry me? Will you let me be the man for you?”

The thing is Harry’s eyes are clear and pleading as though he means every word. It’s utterly hypnotic. Louis knows it’s all for show, and yet his heart is pounding, blood rushing through his ears. The things he said sound so--_ personal _. It confuses him, but he hears himself say yes as though he’s watching the scene from afar. 

And while time seemed to have slowed as Harry dropped to one knee, time now speeds up. He glances at Niall’s and Zayn’s shocked faces as they approach the table, and the waiter appears with a bottle of expensive champagne while the restaurant is erupting in applause and Harry is pulling him to his feet. 

Harry holds both his hands as he closes the distance between them, and for a moment, he thinks Harry is going to kiss him. He inhales sharply at the thought, but then, Harry rests his forehead against Louis’.

Harry’s words whisper across his face. “You don’t have to kiss me, but you do have to look happy.”

He almost says, I _ am _ happy. But that doesn’t make any sense. And since everything has turned sideways in his head for the last few minutes, what’s a few moments more? He drops Harry’s hands, and there’s a flash of disappointment in Harry’s eyes for no more than a second before Louis wraps his arms around his neck and kisses him.

He can hear the whistles and cheering at first, but they all seem to fade away as soon as Harry’s lips move against his own. And then, all he can feel or hear or smell or taste is Harry. Just Harry. Harry’s hands splayed at his waist, Harry’s gasp of breath, his expensive cologne, the sweetness of his mouth.

Does he kiss him for a minute? Two? Four? He’s not sure, but it feels like he could go on kissing Harry forever in this fever dream of a moment that abruptly ends with Niall and Zayn crowding around them with pats on the back and hugs and congratulations, bursting the bubble that had encapsulated them. 

Knowing looks from his friends follow champagne toasts made in the newly engaged couple’s honor. He’s sure they saw Justin as they walked in and have some idea of what he and Harry have done, and they play along brilliantly. 

It’s just one night. One night where he ruins Justin’s night and has a little fun. Harry’s eyes gleam with mischief and something he can’t quite put his finger on, but it makes him grin back. Harry’s touch never leaves him, a hand on his knee, a clasp of his hand, the tap of his shoe against his leg until Louis nearly feels dizzy with the attention.

It takes a while before he thinks to look at Justin to gauge his reaction. It surprises him that he hadn’t quite thought to look before now. The table is empty, but Harry leans in. 

“They left right after our kiss.”

Louis jerks his head in surprise. “Really? They hadn’t even eaten yet.”

Harry shrugs. “It was quite a kiss. Pretty steamy.”

“Shut up,” Louis laughs. 

He should feel quite satisfied that the plan worked so well, but there’s a bit of regret that marks the night. For a brief time he was Harry’s fiance, and for some reason, it just felt right. 

But that’s all over now, he thinks as Harry helps him slip into his coat and back into the cold November night. Now things will just--go back to normal. 

  
  


There’s a fly buzzing in his ear. 

An incessant sound that’s almost rhythmic in its timing. He waves his arm around, snuggling his face back into the pillow, but it’s too late. The cobwebs of sleep are already drifting away from him, just out of reach. With a sigh, he rubs his eyes and sits up.

It’s not a fly.

His phone is lying face up on his nightstand, notifications completely covering the lockscreen as it lights up over and over again, buzzing. What the fuck. He doesn’t bother to see what they say, just opens his phone to see thousands of notifs from both Instagram and Twitter. There are quite a few text messages as well. His heart pounds as he opens Whatsapp.

There are some unread messages in his chat with Zayn, Liam, and Harry. So he opens that first assuming he’ll get a heads up on whatever the fuck has happened, although he has bad feeling it’s something to do with their scene in the restaurant last night.

Liam: Lou or Harry you up yet? You both seeing what’s happening?

Zayn: shit

Liam: you kind of warned them

Zayn: when i said it was all gonna blow up in their faces?

Liam: …

Liam: yes

Zayn: Harry I can see you’re reading these messages

Harry: I’m not doing anything until Louis wakes up and decides what he wants us to do

Zayn: It’s not all Louis’ decision. You’re the one who instigated this whole thing 

Harry: I know that. And I’m willing to do whatever Louis wants me to do about it

Louis: I’m scared to ask why I have a thousand notifs on Instagram and more than that on Twitter.

Zayn: Harry proposed to you in front of a room full of some of the most well known people in Chicago. Did you think it was gonna stay a secret?

Fuck. Louis’ phone starts buzzing with an incoming call from Harry that he picks up immediately.

“I’m so sorry, Lou. I had no idea everything would blow up like this. I just wasn’t thinking about anything but--”

“Can you tell me exactly what’s happened first?”

Harry clears his throat. “Well, someone filmed me proposing to you.”

“Someone?”

Harry clears his throat again. “Well, I guess someone called Sam Roby was there last night?”

“Oh, Jesus.”

“Yeah, she has a lot of Instagram followers.”

“Are you telling me that your proposal went--like viral or something?”

“Well--I mean--if I had to say--viral? I would maybe call it--popular amongst--”

“Amongst who, Harry? The entire city of Chicago?”

“Ummm--well, maybe viral _ is _ a better word for it because it’s definitely not just Chicago. So uh--I guess Zayn doesn’t really tell Enes everything?”

Louis narrows his eyes even though no one is in the room to see it. “Why?”

“Because he tweeted about it? And linked Sam’s instagram post. And so some--sports people? Seem to have retweeted that? Some sports people who are not just in Chicago?”

Louis looks at the post briefly before quickly swiping out. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“I mean, I turned off my notifs on everything, so I’m not really sure anymore--” Harry trails off. “Did you know Enes knew LeBron James?”

Oh god. His chest tightens, and he feels like he can’t catch a breath. Is this what dying feels like? “Please tell me this is not a relevant question,” he manages to say in a strangled voice.

“Mmm. It’s a little relevant.”

Louis starts pacing the room, his mind a tumble of thoughts that he can’t piece together into a coherent sentence.

“Do you remember seeing Jennifer Hudson there? Because I don’t remember seeing her and--”

“Please just--stop talking.”

“Right. Okay. Well, like I said in the group chat, I am all ears about what you want to do about this. And I realize you might need a minute to think about it, but also, my mom has called me six--no, seven times this morning, so at some point I’m going to have to answer.”

“Fuck my life. My mom. Does my mom know?”

“Um--I don’t know--”

Louis clicks out of the phone call and can still hear Harry rambling on, but he’s stopped listening to open his texts to see if his mom has contacted him. There are twenty eight text messages. He cringes and opens his voicemail. There are numerous messages some from numbers he doesn’t recognize and yes, ten from his mom. Fucking great. He clicks back to Harry.

He chews at the inside of his cheek for a bit, his heart still thudding hard in his chest. He has a bad feeling that he already knows what his mom’s response will be. With the exception of Niall and Zayn who know the truth, everyone he knows is going to be hideously thrilled with Harry as his fiance. 

And oh god, if he tells everyone the truth, Justin is going to find out. No, he just can’t. He can’t stand the humiliation of that. He just can’t. 

“Harry, I have a proposal for you.”

“Haven’t we gotten in enough trouble with proposals?”

Louis snorts. “Shut up. How would you like to stay engaged to me just a little bit longer?”

“Oh. Uh--so you want to--stay engaged then?”

“Just for a little while. Just until things die down, you know? You can tell the truth to whoever you need to, but I think we should try to keep it to as few people as possible for now.”

Harry’s quiet for a moment. “Are you going to tell your family?”

“Does this mean you’ll do it?”

“I mean, yeah, Lou. I’m the one who got us into this mess. I kind of owe it to you, don’t I?”

Louis sighs. “No, you were just trying to do me a favor. Don’t feel bad about it, Harold. You’re a good friend to have done that for me.”

“A good friend,” Harry repeats. “Yeah.”

“I’m not going to tell anyone, I don’t think,” Louis continues. “Well, except Liam. I tell Liam everything. But I’m not going to tell my family the truth if that’s all right?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine. Er--I won’t tell mine either, okay?”

“Okay. Well, I better go call Liam and my mom. You want to stop by later? Maybe we can figure out the details or whatever.”

“Yeah, sure, Lou. Good luck.”

“You, too.”

He hangs up and scrolls for Liam’s contact info. He cringes. He’s not looking forward to telling Liam what kind of dumb shit he’s managed to get himself into this time. 

  
  
  


“I am speechless.”

“This is what happens to me when I don’t have you here, Li.”

“Right. Should have just given up on law school to keep you from getting engaged to someone you hardly know,” Liam snorts. 

“I’m not _ actually _ engaged though.”

Liam makes a rude noise. “How many people think you are?”

Louis flops back on his bed. “I don’t know. Thousands. Maybe like a bad number of thousands.”

“Google says LeBron James has over twenty-one million followers on Twitter.”

“Oh god.”

“And fifty-one million on Instagram.”

Fifty-one million. Fuck, that’s bad. “Well, but he only tweeted about it though.” 

“Before about half an hour ago that was true.”

“What?” He sits up in bed, nearly dropping the phone.

“It’s just his Instagram story. So that’s better than posting it directly on his account.”

Louis groans. “Thanks for the silver lining.”

“Well, to get back to my original point, there are what--five people--who know you aren’t engaged. And like twenty million who think you are, so--”

“I liked it better when you were speechless.”

“So what are you going to do?”

Louis sighs and stares at the wall. “I asked Harry to pretend a little while longer.”

He hears a loud sigh on the other end of the line. “Oh, Lou.”

“Listen, fifty million people or whatever now know I’m engaged. I gained thousands of followers on Twitter and Instagram over night. If we don’t at least pretend a little for a while, Justin will know that I did this just to piss him off.”

“You did do this just to piss him off. But really, who cares though? Justin is an idiot. This is your life we’re talking about here.”

“I know--this all just got out of hand, but I don’t think it’s going to hurt anything to just--I don’t know, make a few social media posts or something. People will eventually forget about us, and things can go back to normal.” Louis’ mood brightens a little. Things will calm down soon, surely. 

“I’m almost afraid to ask, but what does your mom think?”

Louis’ mood deflates. “I--told her the news. She was a little mad that she heard I was engaged from somewhere else first.”

“Wait--do you mean--Louis, are you telling me you’re not telling your mom this is all fake?”

“She’s just so excited though, Li! She’s been really worried about me lately. I guess a whirlwind romance doesn’t seem so terrible to her.”

“Jesus, Lou.”

Louis’ door buzzes. “I gotta go. Harry or Niall’s here. We’re having a strategy planning session.”

Liam makes a strangled noise before Louis hangs up. He knows Liam means well. And if he’s being honest with himself, Liam is often the voice of reason in his life. He shuts out that voice as soon as the door opens to reveal Harry chewing on his bottom lip, deepening the pink color. 

“Hey, Lou.”

He stares a beat too long before ushering Harry inside. 

“Your apartment’s really nice,” Harry says, glancing around the living room and peering through the bay window.

“Thanks. Guess you’ve never been here, huh? My roommate’s parents own the place. So I help look after the units for them in exchange for cheap rent.”

Harry looks surprised. “Didn’t know you had a roommate.”

“Oh, yeah? Miles, he’s cool, but he’s a model. He’s not around much.” Louis grins. “So if you see me wearing something expensive it’s probably his from some photo shoot.”

Harry returns the smile and perches on the edge of the couch, elbows to his knees. He even looks like he’s ready to strategize. “So did you have a chance to talk to everyone yet?”

“Just got off the phone with Liam. And I called my mom before that.”

Harry runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I called my mom and my sister. They were--”

Louis waits for his response, but Harry’s voice trails off as he thinks. God, he doesn’t really know a lot about Harry’s family, but he knows they’re wealthy and own a huge department store chain that’s in the process of moving its headquarters to Chicago. 

Fuck, not that Louis thinks there’s anything wrong with his upbringing or being an elementary school teacher, but it’s not exactly a country club life he’s been living. His mind churns through varying scenarios of disapproval from Harry’s family.

“--really pleased, actually.”

“Wait--what?”

Harry’s smile turns a bit sheepish as he rubs the back of his neck with one hand. “Yeah, uh--I guess I look pretty convincing in the video? And they’ve been sort of--concerned with how I was getting on in Chicago without them here yet.”

“Wow. Okay, that’s a little unexpected. I mean, my mom took it a little too well really.”

Harry’s eyebrows perk up. “She did?”

“I guess she’s been worried about me after the--breakup or whatever.” Louis shrugs as though it’s no big deal that his mom’s been fretting about how he was handling it. “She seems to think we must have hit it off immediately and love at first sight and all that. That’s basically how it was with my step-dad, so I guess it makes sense to her.”

Harry nods, considering his words. “I did ask you to fly to Paris with me about five minutes after we met.”

Louis snorts. “I told her we met in a bathroom.”

“No! That’s a terrible place for the beginning of a great love story! We should have thought of something better.”

“Nah, thought we’d better stick as close to the truth as possible.” 

The door buzzes again, so he goes to let Niall in. “Hey there, future Mr. and Mr. Styles. Or is it Tomlinson? Mr. and Mr. Tomlinson? Or are you hyphenating? Styles-Tomlinson or Tomlinson-Styles? Personally, I prefer--”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Oh, shut up, Niall.”

“Not really our pressing concern right now,” Harry adds.

“Well, before we get started strategizing, I promised Zayn I’d tell you both that he disagrees with this entire thing and that he’s sure Liam also disagrees.”

Louis sighs. “He’s right about Liam.”

Niall claps his hands together. “Now that we got the Debbie Downers out of the way, let’s talk about next steps.”

Louis just nods and shoots a look at Harry. 

Niall paces the room as if he’s giving a presentation. “So I think if you’re not hoping to monetize the situation--”

Harry’s eyebrows draw together in a frown. 

“Of course not. What are you even--”

“Oh, Louis. I know you’ll never agree to any of this, but you could spin this into talk show appearances and wedding sponsors for the wedding and product placement and--”

“Niall--” Louis says slowly. “You know there’s not really a wedding, right?”

Niall lets out a sigh. “Right. Yes. I know. I’m just saying if you end up going through with it--”

“Niall! What the fuck? I know you work in PR, but this is not the kind of help we need! I mean, I guess I can’t speak for Harry, but I just figured we had to be slightly visible on social media for a little while and then fade away.”

Niall narrows his eyes. “How much have you actually looked at your social media, Louis?”

Louis shrugs. “Not much. It’s all chaos on there right now.”

He hears Harry clear his throat and turns to see him looking a little nervous. “Yeah, it keeps spreading actually? I think it’s partly because of the sports connection. The NBA isn’t exactly known for being supportive of gay players, so I think this is sort of a PR move on their part. That Enes’ friends are getting married and that his fellow players are being supportive is sort of a big deal. Apparently.”

“Apparently,” Louis echoes. He feels slightly numb. He decides not to ask how much further it’s spread.

Niall’s eyebrow is raised to his hairline. “Also, everyone’s figured out Harry’s family is loaded, so now it’s even bigger news. And by the way, you being an elementary school teacher is just making everything seem even more sweet and magical than it already was. It’s kind of a perfect storm situation we’ve got going on here.”

“What the hell does me being a teacher have to do with anything?”

“Perfect husband material,” Harry murmurs. His eyes open comically wide as he realises what he’s said. “Er--that’s what my mom said. Because you’d be like responsible and--good with kids and--yeah--”

Harry trails off as he and Niall stare back at him. 

Niall clears his throat. “Right. So anyway, it doesn’t help that you both look like--you know.” He gestures in their general direction.

“What?” He glances at Harry who shakes his head in a questioning manner, his lips curled comically downward. It’s very cute. Oh. “Like--attractive?”

Niall rolls his eyes. “Do you really want me to talk about your pretty face, Lou? You know you’re pretty.”

Louis bats his eyelashes. “Maybe I wanted to talk about Harry’s pretty face.”

“Yeah, well, you and a few thousand of your followers like to do the same.”

Louis groans loudly as he lays back against the couch, dramatically shading his eyes with one arm. “So what exactly are we supposed to do then?”

“Well, your plan isn’t such a bad one. It’s just going to take longer to fade away. I don’t suggest hiding everything and going private because that’ll just make people even more interested and you really don’t want people to start digging into this. So I think you’re just going to have to act like you’re fiances for a while before you can start backing off.” Louis lifts his arm to look at Niall just as he sits in the nearest chair. “You can still call all this off, Lou. You don’t have to do any of this. You can always just go with the truth.”

Louis’ heart twists a bit in his chest. The thought of Justin knowing how pathetic he is makes him want to cry. 

“Louis?” Harry’s voice washes over him, slow and deep. Something inside calms. “I really don’t mind doing this for you. I didn’t mind proposing to help you, and I don’t mind being engaged longer than we anticipated. Whatever you decide to do, I just want you to know that I’ll stand right beside you, okay? As your friend or as your fake fiance.”

Something warm unfurls in his chest. How hard could it really be to pretend to be Harry’s fiance for a while? Harry is so lovely; it should be pretty easy to pretend to be engaged to him. He gives Harry a small smile and then turns to Niall. “So where should we start?”

Niall rubs his hands together in glee. “First let’s set up a selfie for Instagram right where you are. You two get closer together while I open the curtains more. Gotta get some good light in here.”

They both scoot towards each other until their hips meet on the couch. 

“Okay, now Lou, tuck yourself in beside Harry. Harry, put your arm around Louis.”

They do as they’re told, but Niall is frowning. “You guys just got engaged in front of a million people. Don’t act so stiff. Harry, you’ve got longer arms, so you take the photo.”

Harry slides his phone from his pocket and activates the camera to the front-facing one. They see themselves on the screen, and Louis seems what Niall means. They do look a little stiff. He’s about to try and do something about it when Harry starts talking.

“Did you know that the first French fries weren’t cooked in France?”

“Wha--”

“Yeah, they were cooked in Greece.”

It takes a fraction of a second for Niall to groan loudly as Louis looks up at Harry and snorts. And Harry continues.

“If you see a robbery at an Apple store does that make you an _ iWitness _?”

Harry can hardly finish the joke. His shoulders shaking with laughter, dimples sharply creased into his cheeks. Louis looks into Harry’s laughing eyes and can’t help but smile back at this ridiculous man telling terrible jokes.

“Good work, Harry,” Niall says quietly. Louis snaps out of the fog that had surrounded him for a moment to look back at Niall. There’s an odd look on Niall’s face. “Pretty sure Harry got some good shots.”

He hadn’t even realized Harry had taken any photos, but he looks back at Harry who is already pulling up the photos on his phone. Louis looks down in wonder at the static version of he and Harry there on the screen. Harry looks so pleased with himself as Louis looks on, eyes nearly crinkled closed in delight. They look good together. They look like a real couple, he decides. 

Niall looks over his shoulder at the photo that Harry’s stopped on. “Very convincing. If I didn’t know better, I would have said you two were in love.”


	3. Chapter 3

The selfie they took a week ago doesn’t go viral by any means, but it still has plenty of likes on Harry’s instagram. Something that doesn’t go unnoticed at work.

“When are you going to bring him round?” Nina asks as he stands at the copy machine just trying to run off the math tests. 

“What?” 

“When do we get to meet Harry? You know we didn’t even know you were seeing anyone!”

Louis tries not to cringe at the thought of introducing Harry to the school secretary and all his teaching colleagues. Why didn’t he think of this before? “Oh, um--sometime I suppose. He’s really busy right now at work. His family’s company--”

“Of course! You know I buy a lot of my clothes from their online site!”

“Oh, that’s--great. I’ll tell him that.”

Nina plasters a huge smile on her face. “Well, you’ll bring him to the holiday party. So I guess we can all wait until then.”

“Right. The holiday party.” Fuck, the holiday party.

“Anyway, you both look so cute together! Got any big plans this weekend?”

“Uhh--not really. Just gonna hang out with friends probably.”

“Is that how you two met then? Through friends.”

“Mm. Kind of. Sort of ran into each other and then it turns out we had a friend in common.”

“Awww! Well, hope to see some cute selfies on your Insta!”

Louis tries his best to smile. It’s apparently time for more interaction.

His day is busy enough that he doesn’t think about it again until he’s talking to Niall that night.

“I can’t believe this is working so well.” Louis pulls a container of mint chocolate chip ice cream out of the freezer.

Niall takes a bite of his rocky road. “Of course it is. Everyone loves shit like this. I mean, that proposal was like pretty fucking amazing, you know? Can’t believe he pulled that out of his ass on the spot like that.”

Louis plops onto the couch and turns on Netflix. “I guess. But it’s still crazy to me that everyone is so ready to believe I’m engaged to someone else when Justin and I only broke up a few months ago.”

Niall grabs the remote out of his hand and starts scrolling through the options. “Whirlwind romance is the best kind to live vicariously through. Plus, Harry has like dimples and shit.”

“True.” He looks up to see Niall eyeing him curiously.

“Are you--” Niall turns his head to one side. “Do you have--some kind of interest in Harry?”

“What? No! I mean, he’s a good looking guy what with the dimples like you said, but--”

“You smiled to yourself. Like you were thinking about him and his dimples and smiling all fondly.”

“Shut up. _ Fondly _,” he scoffs.

“You were,” Niall insists. “Your face did this sort of scrunch, and your lips did this funny little smile like a V shape.”

“It did not.”

Niall shrugs. “It did.”

Louis grabs the remote back and scrolls the options, settling on a comedy special. “Whatever. Anyway, I guess I’ll have to make plans with Harry to get something to post to Instagram. You doing anything tomorrow night?”

“I maybe have a date. But we could all go somewhere. Invite Zayn and Enes, too. Might as well do it right.”

Louis frowns. With other people there, he and Harry will have to pretend to be together. But then again, they may as well start practicing. “Yeah, okay. Sounds good.”

Lucky Strike was a good choice for something like tonight, a date that’s not a date with a fiance that’s not his fiance. He glances around at the neon lights of the arcade and hears the sounds of the bowling lanes on the other end of the place. If everyone is busy bowling and playing games, no one will be looking too closely at how he and Harry are interacting.

First, they have to make it through dinner though.

Nerves dance along his skin like pin pricks every time Harry’s arm brushes his, which is a lot of times, seeing as how they’re sandwiched into a half-circular booth with Zayn and Enes on one side and Niall and Jess on the other. Harry sends him a crooked smile every time it happens that just flusters him even further so that by the time the food arrives, Louis’ bones feel like they’ve liquified and he could slide right to the floor. He definitely hadn’t factored in the whole I’m-very-attracted-to-Harry issue in this whole plan. It’s fine though. He can control himself.

“--date, Louis?” Louis catches only this last piece of Enes’ sentence. 

“Mmm?”

Zayn shoots him a look. Shit, apparently he’s supposed to be paying attention. 

“Maybe spring,” Harry jumps in, wrapping an arm around Louis’ shoulders. “We talked about spring a little bit, right, babe?”

“Spring,” Louis repeats. He does his best to relax into Harry’s hold. “Yeah, uh--spring’s nice.”

“No firm date yet though.”

It finally occurs to Louis that they’re talking about wedding dates. Christ. He feels himself tense up, but Harry’s fingertips press gently into his shoulder, a small squeeze of a reminder.

“You know, along the lake would be nice,” Enes muses. “Always thought that was nice for a wedding.”

Zayn turns to look at Enes in surprise. “Did you, now?”

Enes just shrugs but he’s got a small smile on his face. Huh. Louis hadn’t really realized how close they probably were to getting engaged. 

“My cousin got married on a boat on the river,” Jess offers. “It was pretty cool.”

The food arrives before there can be any more wedding talk. He hadn’t really counted on so much of it, but maybe he should be prepared going forwards for everyone to ask about stuff like this. He and Harry probably need to keep their stories straight. 

Part way through the night, Louis finds he’s actually having fun, mostly because of how terrible Harry is at bowling and how not at all happy he is about it

“Aww, babe. You’re so bad at this.” Louis giggles as Harry glares at the pins and stomps back to sit down. It’s funny how easily the pet name Harry chose earlier, rolls off his tongue. 

Harry folds his arms over his chest with a huff. “Oh, shut up. I’m just--out of practice.”

“Don’t worry, Harry,” Enes grins and walks up to pick up his ball. He wiggles his eyebrows. “Lou will make it up to you later, I’m sure.”

Harry’s still sulky, but his lips quirk up at the suggestion. “Maybe that’d be worth it then.”

Louis can feel his cheeks heat a bit as he watches Enes take his turn. “Maybe we should bet on it.”

“What if we bet on pool? I’m not so bad at that.”

Louis hides his smile. “You’re on, Harold.”

After the last frame, their group heads to the arcade while Harry and Louis head towards the pool tables. Harry’s hand sits at the curve of Louis’ back, and he has to remind himself not to lean into it; it’s all for show. Niall glances back at them. “Hope you didn’t put a wager on the game, Harry.”

Harry’s hand falters. “What? Why?”

Enes turns back and laughs. “You’ll see. Better find out these things about your fiance, Styles.”

Harry narrows his eyes at him as they make their way over to the table. “Are you some kind of pool shark? Should have known you agreed to this bet too easily.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, babe.”

The endearment slips easily off his tongue again even though no one else is around to hear it. It’s probably better for consistency’s sake. Louis racks the balls. 

It’s obvious fairly early on in the game that Harry is outmatched, which is when Louis starts to notice something. When the ball is a decent distance from him, Harry drapes himself over the table, his shirt hanging open and his cross necklace dangling, giving Louis a good look at the tattoos across his chest. Louis swallows. 

When Harry has to slip by him, he presses himself between Louis and the table, brushing by Louis’ body. Louis’ mouth goes dry.

When Kehlani comes on over the soundsystem, he notices Harry’s hips swaying, drawing Louis’ eyes to his tight fitting jeans that encase his long, long legs. Louis gulps.

But when Harry wraps his fist around his pool cue, he finally realises he just missed a shot because he’s staring at Harry’s fingers caressing the stick. Well, two can play at this game. 

He knows he’s won when he arches his back to take a shot, and Harry drops his pool cue on the floor. After that he makes quick work of a novice like Harry. He’s concentrating so hard on this last ball that he doesn’t even realize their friends have reappeared. 

Enes starts clapping as Louis sinks the ball. “Nice. You and Liam are the best pool hustlers I’ve ever seen. Looks like you’re doing all right on your own without your partner in crime though.”

Harry shoots him a curious look, but he turns to Enes and shrugs with a smile. “Liam did encourage me to go out and hustle people not long ago. I told him I might as long as Niall wasn’t my wingman.”

“Hey, now,” Niall protests.

“You did wack Lou in the knees,” Zayn says.

Louis laughs. “That’s what I said!” 

“One time!” Niall whines.

“These dudes have been friends too long,” Enes raises an eyebrow towards Harry. “You’ll get used to it. It’s even worse when Liam’s around.”

“Whatever. I’m gonna take Jess home. She’s got work tomorrow.”

“Yeah, Zayn and I are gonna head out, too. You staying at Lou’s tonight?” Enes asks.

Harry’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head. Not subtle. 

“Yeah, I’ve got to collect on my bet, don’t I?” Louis says as Enes whoops. He gets an Uber and hustles Harry into the car.

When it becomes clear they’re heading to Louis’, Harry turns to him. “Oh, you don’t really have to take me all the way to yours. I can just--”

Louis shakes his head and makes a face, nodding at the driver. At this point, he’s maybe getting a little paranoid. It’s not like _ every _ person in Chicago knows who they are. “Let’s talk when we get there.”

“Oh,” Harry eyes the driver carefully. “Right. Okay.”

As they step out of the car, the driver waves them off with an “I’m really rooting for you guys!” that makes Louis cringe. Everyone in Chicago really does know who they are. 

As they walk up the steps of the brownstone, he hears Harry stumble on the stairs. “You okay there, Harold? Didn’t think you had that much to drink.”

Harry’s eyes dart to his. “Er--no, I’m fine.”

Louis smirks as he makes it to his door. “Stop checking out my ass, Harold.”

“What--I wasn’t--I mean--”

Louis opens the door and ushers Harry inside. “I’m just teasing you. Better get used to it.”

“Oh, right,” Harry mumbles, his face red. “Also, I’m sorry. It was right there in my face, and I--”

“So you _ were _ looking at my ass,” Louis laughs.

Harry throws himself down on the couch and covers his face with his hands. “Sorry!”

Louis shrugs as Harry peeks at him through his fingers. He grabs two handfuls of his own butt and jiggles his hands. “Don’t worry. I get that a lot. It’s a nice one.”

Harry stares for a moment, biting his bottom lip before shaking his head. “So um, I guess we should talk.”

“Right.” Louis plops himself down on the couch and throws his legs over Harry’s lap. “We probably need to talk about boundaries and looking comfortable with each other, but not so much that we actually make each other uncomfortable.”

“I’m comfortable,” Harry says quickly.

“With what?”

“Anything.”

Louis raises an eyebrow. “Okay then. Well, I think I pretty much am, too. I’m kind of a touchy feely kind of guy anyway. I like a good cuddle.”

“Me too.”

“Okay, so that shouldn’t be a problem. What about PDA beyond that?”

Harry’s eyes widen. “Um, whatever you want. I mean, I’m okay with whatever. With whatever you think we need to do.”

“Well, I think for the most part no one’s looking for us to be making out all the time. But you know, should probably hold hands and sit close to each other, an arm around the shoulders, that kind of thing.”

Harry nods. “Sounds good.”

“As for wedding plans I think what we said tonight was good. Nothing too specific. Just keep it very general. Like we aren’t ready to make big plans yet.” Louis looks down at his finger where Harry’s ring still sits, the silver glinting a bit in the lamp light. “Oh, your ring. Do you want it back? I could go get a new one.”

“No!” Harry lowers his voice. “No. It’s fine. Keep that one. It looks--well, it looks nice on you.”

“Okay. I mean, it’s only temporary. You’ll get it back soon enough.” He’s not sure why Harry doesn’t look pleased to have this reassurance. He starts sliding it off his finger. “Are you sure you don’t need it back?”

“Please just--” Harry looks into his eyes. This isn’t the first time his eyes take hold of Louis’ senses. “Keep it, okay?”

“Mmm, yeah. Okay.”

Harry’s hands grip Louis’ legs for a second before he gently slides them off his lap. “I should probably get going.”

Harry’s thick voice sends a shiver down Louis’ spine that he tries to ignore. “I’ll walk you out.”

Just as Harry steps back through the door, he turns back as if to say something more. But he doesn’t. His brows furrow together, but he doesn’t look angry, just thoughtful maybe. 

“Hey, Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for doing this for me.”

Harry looks surprised. “You don’t have to thank me. It’s my fault we’re in this mess. And anyway, I really don’t mind. See you, Lou.”

“See you.”

  
  


“Can’t believe you’ve never seen an NBA game, Harry!”

Harry shrugs at Niall. “I dunno. Never thought about it, I guess.”

Louis nudges him with his shoulder. “That’s okay, Harold. Since you’re not loyal to a team, we don’t have worry about converting you into a Bulls fan. You’re required to be one now by the way.”

“Is that right?” Harry says leaning in with a smile and tangling his fingers with Louis’ as they walk into the arena. 

“Don’t fuck this up for us, Harry,” Niall says as they flash their IDs to a man with a clipboard guarding the entrance to a suite. “You better tell Enes you love the Bulls and that you bleed red and black.”

“Don’t get in between Niall and his use of Enes’ suite,” Louis advises.

“I can see that.”

They enter into the lavishly appointed suite, food and drinks already on hand at the private bar area. Zayn’s already there, lounging in a black leather seat. As soon as they walk in, Zayn jumps up to make his way over to Louis.

“Hey, just wanted you to know that for sure Justin is out of town. So no worries that you’ll have to see him tonight.”

He breathes a sigh of relief. It’s not that he’s scared of Justin, but he’d rather not have a scene tonight and just enjoy a night out with their friends. “Thanks, Z.”

Niall’s face appears over Zayn’s shoulder. “Hey, let’s go get Harry a jersey!”

Before Louis can ascertain whether Harry even wants a Bulls jersey or not, Niall is pulling Harry from the suite out into the arena. 

“I better go make sure Niall doesn’t make Harry buy out all the merch.”

Zayn waves him off, and he darts out after Niall and Harry. He sees them eyeing a table of Bulls gear just ahead of him.

“Hey, Louis!”

He whips around at the sound of his name and sees one of Justin’s co-workers at a promotional table signing people up for something. 

“Hey, Nick. How are you?”

“Good, good. Sorry to hear about you and Justin, but it’s real cool that you found _ the one _ after that.”

“Oh. Uh--thanks.”

“You know, you were always out of Justin’s league anyway.”

“Um, well--”

“You know if it doesn’t work out with the Styles guy, there are lots of guys who would treat you right. Did you know I’m being promoted? I’ll be making enough to take care of someone like you the way they deserve.”

Christ. This guy is supposed to be Justin’s friend. Bunch of vultures. He feels an arm slip around his waist, and he sinks back, leaning into the touch. 

“Hey, Lou. You okay?”

“Yeah, babe.” He looks up to give Harry a wide smile, and he’s given a dazzling one in return. “I see Niall’s hooked you up with some gear.”

A huff of laughter brushes over his ear and makes him shiver. “Yeah, I think I’m all set now with Bulls merch. Most of it’s got Enes’ name on it, which is a bit weird if I’m being honest.”

Nick’s straightened up and back into work mode. “Hey, we have a promotional game going on during halftime. Would you guys mind being involved? It would be great publicity for us to have you two play. I bet we’d get a ton of social media activity.”

“Oh, um--”

Harry’s eyes light up. “Sure, what’s the game?”

“My fiance is very competitive.”

“Well, it’s really just you against the net then,” Nick says. “We’ll blindfold you, and Louis will have to direct you to a spot only by giving you directions on a microphone to take a shot and make a basket.”

“I can do that.” Harry sounds so confident that Louis can’t help but go along with it. He hadn’t really planned on being so public with this date. He’d thought he’d post a pic of Harry in the suite and be done with it, but this would definitely be a better way to solidify that they’re together.

They sign their names on a few forms and head back to the suite to watch the game. Enes is playing well tonight, getting a lot of offensive rebounds, and the Bulls are winning by a comfortable margin.

Harry seems to be having a great time, and it brings a warmth to his chest to see how happy Harry is here with their friends. It amazes him how well Harry fits into their group. Funny to think that only a few short months ago he didn’t even know him. 

Zayn walks back from inside the suite with a beer. “Bro, it’s almost half time. You and Harry better head down.”

“Oh, right.” A hint of nerves finds its way into his stomach. At least he’s not going out onto the court alone though. He’ll have Harry right there with him. Harry at least seems excited about the whole thing.

“Okay, Lou. You’ve got the plan down, right? Just direct me to the free throw line, and I think I’ll be fine. I used to be really good at free throws.”

“Right. Got it.”

They’re ushered out onto the court to an introduction by Nick. 

“Time for Chicago’s very own couple of the moment to try their hand at this next game! Louis is a first grade teacher here in Chicago, so he should be good at giving his fiance directions!”

The crowd laughs and applauds as Nick ties a blindfold over Harry’s eyes.

“Now this young man with the ball is new to the Windy City, so please welcome Harry Styles of Styles Department Stores!” He waits for some applause. “This young man’s proposal has gone viral thanks to our very own Enes Kanter and other NBA players! Now how did you two meet, Harry?”

“Oh, uh...the first time I met Louis I asked him to run away to Paris with me and then it turned out we had a mutual friend, so that’s pretty much where it all started.”

“Sounds lovely! Louis, when’s the wedding?”

“We don’t have a date set, but maybe spring.”

“Ah, very nice! Okay, Louis here’s the microphone, and you can start directing Harry!”

Nick hands over the microphone, and Louis takes a breath. “Okay, babe, turn to your left. A little farther. A little more. Oop, okay back to your right a little. Right there. Stop. Okay, now move forward a few steps. One more. Okay, go a tiny bit more to your right and you’ll be at the free throw line. Okay, you’re pretty dead center now.”

“Okay, Harry! You’ll have three tries to make the basket!” Nick says. “The prize comes from our partners at Zenni Optical, and since Harry and Louis have agreed to donate the prize money to Ridgeview Elementary School where Louis teaches, Zenni has agreed to match the donation!”

That’s news to Louis. Must have been Harry’s doing. His heart turns over a bit at how sweet of a gesture that is. “Okay, babe, I think you should be just right now!”

Harry misses the first one and a long _ aw _ rises from the crowd. 

“Now, now, he’s got two more tries!” Nick says.

Harry absolutely sinks the second ball to a thunderous response from the crowd. “Did I make it?” 

He looks adorable like this, blindfolded with a hopeful smile on his face.

“Yeah, babe! You made it!”

Harry slips the blindfold off his eyes as Nick comes to wrap an arm around each of them.

“Nice work, Harry! I’m sure everyone at Ridgeview will be delighted with the donation, and another huge thanks to Zenni Optical!”

Harry’s grinning from ear to ear as he takes Louis’ hand, and really, he just can’t help himself. He tugs Harry down just enough to land a kiss on his cheek. “Thanks, Harry.” 

  
  
  


“You know I’ve never been here except on field trips?” They walk up the stone steps past the large lion sculptures flanking the entrance to the Art Institute. 

It’s the first time they’ll be on a date with just the two of them. Well, it’s not a _ real _ date, obviously, but Louis figures it wouldn’t hurt to be seen just the two of them together and not surrounded by their friends. Just wander around, take a few photos of the two of them, and spend a nice afternoon together. 

It’s funny, but he already feels so comfortable with Harry. He’s not sure if it’s because they’re having to spend so much time together or if it’s just that they get along well together. He suspects it’s a little of both. If this engagement hadn’t accidentally gotten out of hand, he and Harry would probably be building a bit of a friendship now. He’s actually kind of glad that they’ve had to skip that stage and fallen right into a much more intense friendship.

Walking around downtown through the loop and looking out against the backdrop of the lake still thrills Louis even after living in the city for years. But there’s always something new to discover about your hometown when you walk someone through it for the first time.

“Really? How can you really enjoy art with a bunch of students swarming around?”

“Well, actually you can’t. So this’ll be nice for me, too.” Louis smiles. “When you said you liked art museums, I knew we had to come here first. There’s other great art in the city, but this is like the pinnacle of art in the world. Not that I’m biased.”

“Of course, not biased at all in favor of Chicago,” Harry says with a grin. “Wait, does that say there’s an Andy Warhol exhibition going on?”

“Uh yeah, I guess there is. Based on that enormous sign and print of Andy Warhol’s face.”

“Oh, shut up,” Harry laughs, pinching his side.

“Ow!” Louis yelps. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, babe. I’ve got a lot more siblings than you. I know how to fight back.”

The _ babe _ had just rolled off his tongue on accident. He hesitates to see Harry’s reaction, but Harry just rolls his eyes and doesn’t seem to notice. “Please. You’re an oldest child, and now you’re a teacher. I bet you never laid a hand on any of your siblings. Now me on the other hand, I’m a younger brother. You better believe I’ve kicked and pinched my sister.” 

Louis ducks out of the way of Harry’s fingers as he tries to pinch his side again. “Fine. You’re right. But you’re not my brother, now are you?”

A flash of something crosses Harry’s face. Whatever he’s thinking is distracting him just long enough for Louis to reach in a quick pinch of his hip before he makes his escape to the ticket counter. 

Harry closes in right behind him as he attempts to buy them tickets. Harry stands too close, or rather he stands as close as a lover would stand. He hears Harry’s voice asking about paying extra for fast passes and for the Warhol exhibit in that low voice of his, slow and sweet as syrup. The heat of Harry’s breath against the side of his face as he speaks to the ticket seller has Louis’ mind wandering far too much to pay attention to Harry buying both of their tickets before it’s already done.

“Hey.” He hisses as they walk past the desk and into the gallery. “I should have paid.”

“It’s no problem, Lou.” Harry pauses, nearly causing a collision with tourists walking through. “Just let me pay. I like taking care of my friends. Do you mind if we check out the Warhol exhibit first?”

He lets the change in subject slide. “Fine, but only if we do impressionists next.”

“Are they your favorites?” Harry’s voice has a hint of a tease in it. “Right for the big guns, huh?”

“They’re the big guns for a reason. They’re fucking gorgeous. And if you don’t like Seurat and Van Gogh, this engagement is off.”

“I’m kidding! I swear!” Harry holds his hands up in surrender. “I mean, I’m excited about Warhol. He’s not exactly an unknown.”

The exhibit is more interesting than Louis had first imagined, although that may be due at least in part to the company he’s keeping. 

“This is such an amazing retrospective! He’s just such a visionary, you know? He just truly anticipated the digital age and its issues.”

Louis nods. Warhol isn’t exactly his thing, but he can appreciate it. “Pretty cool to see his early stuff and how it led up to all the iconic stuff.”

Harry whips around towards him. “Yes! Exactly! All the illustrations and then leading into looking to the commercial world for inspiration.”

“You can even see it in his self-portraits. The arc of his career in self-portrait form.”

Harry stops and stares at him for a moment. 

“What?”

A bright smile lights Harry’s face, his dimples carving deeply into his cheeks. “This is really fun. No one ever wants to come with me to art museums and talk about the art.”

“Oh.” He can feel his face heat up, and he’s not even sure why. Just because he’s made Harry happy? “I’m glad you’re having fun. I am, too. Like I said, I tend to only come to things like this with my students. I’m enjoying not having to take kids on bathroom breaks when I’m trying to look at a painting.”

Harry lets out a bark of laughter that he tries to smother with one large hand. If he could choose anyone to be having a fake relationship with, he thinks he’d choose Harry every time. He returns Harry’s smile. It’s honestly been a lot of fun getting to know Harry, their circumstances accelerating the friendship process into something fairly intense.

“Fair enough,” Harry says, clearing his throat. “Ready for some impressionism?”

“Hell yes! This is the money right here, Harold,” he says as he begins leading Harry out of the exhibit’s area. “This is the reason we’re on the art world’s map.”

The afternoon whiles itself away in a blur of paintings and murals and sculptures. They backtrack for a guide book at one point that Harry buys in the giftshop when they find neither of them knows much about tapestries. 

They walk out of the museum and out onto Michigan Avenue, pulling their hats and gloves on against the lake effect wind and cold. The streets bustle with activity, cars and streams of people, no matter the weather in this part of town.

“Admit that _ A Sunday on La Grande Jatte _ took your breath away,” Louis demands as they cross the street bordering Millennium Park. 

Harry holds his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine, I admit it’s quite impressive in person.”

“Ha! I knew you’d give in.”

“It’s just that the most famous stuff is sometimes disappointing in person, you know? Like--”

“The Mona Lisa,” they both say in unison. 

“Yes!”

“I know!”

“Way better stuff in the Louvre than the Mona Lisa, sorry Leo.”

Harry stops in his tracks, almost causing the people behind them to run into him. “Did you just call Leonardo DaVinci, _ Leo _, like he’s a Ninja Turtle?”

Louis grins. “Maybe I did.”

Harry shakes his head and keeps walking only to still again at the sight of McCormick Plaza’s ice skating rink. “Oh, wow.”

“You ever been skating?”

“No. Always lived in warm places where it wasn’t much of a thing.” Harry’s eyes shine as he stares at the skaters twirling across the ice. 

It’s just dark enough that the lights flick on, startling Harry. 

“The Christmas tree will be lit soon. Looks really pretty here at night.” Louis swallows before he speaks again. “Would you uh--like to go ice skating sometime? With me?”

“Yeah, I would,” Harry beams. 

Louis lets out a breath, a puff of white into the darkening early evening light. It’s not as if it’s a real date he reminds himself. Nothing to be nervous about. 

  
  


It’s not that he didn’t understand Harry’s family is wealthy. It’s just that when he’s met Harry outside his luxury apartment building, he hadn’t really done much besides wait for him out in front of the building. Obviously anything at Michigan and Lake is going to be expensive as fuck, but he’s still completely unprepared for what it looks like inside. 

Floor to ceiling windows, a balcony, incredible views of the city. Everything is modern, but elegant. He closes his mouth when he realizes it’s been gaping open at the sight of this kind of space right downtown. 

“Well, it’s--your apartment is--it’s--wow.”

“Oh, uh--thanks. I didn’t really do much? It was decorated for me. Doesn’t really feel like me to be completely honest. I haven’t had time to really do anything with it though.”

“Well, it’s amazing.” He looks down at his feet and sees there’s a small snag in his sock that’s unraveling. He should have worn newer socks. He’d taken off his shoes at the door, but he’s sure Harry saw his beat up old Converse he wore today. His stomach turns a little. 

Harry’s looking at him, concern furrowed between his brows. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Everything’s great. Um, ready to go ice skating?”

“Yep. Let me just grab my coat.”

“You’ll need more than a coat, Harold. Gloves, hat, scarf--” He stops abruptly at the sight of Harry stepping back from the closet, a garish green and yellow hat atop his head. “No, you can’t wear that hat.”

Harry turns his lips into an exaggerated pout. “But why? They’re my favorite team.”

“Harold, I’m not being seen anywhere near you if you wear a Green Bay Packers hat in the middle of Chicago. I’m not gonna defend your honor when every person in the park turns on you and beats you with their Chicago Bears brand merchandise. Why the hell do you like the Packers anyway? You’re not from Wisconsin!”

Harry shrugs. “I met Aaron Rodgers at a fundraiser once. Nice guy.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Just because you have a boner for Aaron Rodgers isn’t a reason to get punched for wearing a Packers hat.”

“I don’t have a boner for him!”

“Sure, sure.”

“He’s not my type at all.” Harry sniffs as he takes the hat off his head, his curls falling in disarray over his ears. He plops a black one on his head instead.

“What is?” Louis asks as they walk out of the apartment and towards the elevator.

“My type?”

The elevator doors open. “Mm.” 

They lean against the back of the elevator and glance at each other’s reflections in the mirrored walls. “Well, I like blue eyes, a nice smile, funny, charming, a good person, someone’s who’s a good friend and good with children--”

“That’s a lot of stuff to find in one person.”

“Is it?” Harry says as he wraps a scarf around his neck. The doors of the elevator ding and open into the lobby. “There’s at least one person I know.”

Louis snorts. “Well, why aren’t you dating them?”

“Who says I’m not?” Harry’s tongue nearly falls out of his mouth with the smirk on his face.

Louis finally gets it. “Ohhh, shut up. So you were describing me? Well, you were kidding, but the joke’s on you because you described me as pretty fucking great.”

Harry just smiles. “You _ are _ pretty fucking great, Lou.” Harry takes Louis’ gloved hand in his as they walk through the doors and out into the chill of a late November afternoon.

The sky remains clear and blue, no snow clouds to be seen, although the wind when it blows bites into any exposed skin. They walk hand in hand towards Millennium Park, but when Harry tries to head towards McCormick Plaza, Louis pulls him further into the park. 

“What are you doing? I thought we were ice skating?”

“We are.” Louis smiles. “You’ll see.”

“What the--”

They stand at the fence to look on as ice skaters wind their way across a ribbon of ice that laces through the landscape of Maggie Daley Park. 

“Pretty cool, right? It has uphill and downhill areas, so it’s kind of fun and different.”

Louis moves to head towards the skate rental, but Harry stops him with a tug to his wrist. “Lou?”

“Yeah?”

Harry bites his lip and looks back at the skaters. “I don’t really have the best balance. I’m not sure how I’ll do on ice skates.”

“Don’t worry, babe. I’ll hold your hand and keep you steady.”

Harry’s face clears, and he gives Louis a tentative smile. “Okay. I trust you.”

As they lace up their skates, something tugs at the back of Louis’ mind. A wariness about how he lets endearments slip through his lips and the way they talk sometimes as though there’s something more between them seeps into the forefront of his consciousness. The last thing he needs right now is to get hurt by all this. He’s just going to have to make more of an effort to keep his feelings out of this. He’s already quite attached to this friendship with Harry, and it would be pretty awful if he ruined it by pushing it any further especially when Harry’s the one doing him such a favor. 

Harry nearly falls as soon as he’s out on the ice, his arms beginning to flail out for balance. 

“Woah! I got you!” Louis grabs at Harry’s bicep to steady him. He chuckles as he wraps an arm beneath Harry’s and begins to skate, tugging Harry forward. “Gotta keep moving. Not allowed to stop on this thing.”

After about a half a lap, Harry’s at least moving his feet properly in the skates, and they move at a slow enough pace as to not test his balance too much. 

Harry still watches his feet quite a bit, but he must feel more steady because he begins to talk. “So how was Thanksgiving?”

“Good, good. My mom’s desperate to meet you though. Bit awkward, but I guess you’ll have to meet her at some point.”

“Oh! I’d love to meet your family! I’ve always loved big families!” 

It makes his stomach flip over to think about introducing Harry as his fiance to people--not just people, his family. How will he ever explain any of it later to everyone? Surely, they’ll decide to put a stop to this whole thing soon anyway, and meeting his family won’t be an issue. He just changes the subject a little. “How was Thanksgiving in Arizona?”

“Hot. Busy. Everything’s in boxes at home. They’ll be here next week. Don’t know if I mentioned that?”

“No, I didn’t realize they’d be here by then.” The thought of meeting Harry’s family as his fiance makes him really fucking nervous, almost as much as if he really were Harry’s fiance. 

Maybe Harry senses something off about him, or he just decides to be an idiot, but the next thing Louis knows Harry is skating away from his hold on his arm. “Look at me, Lou! I think I really got the hang of--oof.”

“Christ, Harry.” He rushes over to Harry’s side to help pick him up off the ice.

“That really hurt!” Harry looks at him surprised as though he hadn’t known ice was hard before now.

“You okay?”

“Physically, I’m fine.” Harry’s lips pull down at the edges. “Emotionally, I’m bruised.”

Louis snorts. “Why don’t we go get some hot chocolate. Good for emotional bruising.”

Harry puts a finger to his chin as if in thought, and Louis has a mental flashback to meeting him in the club bathroom. He’s so cute like this. Still. He’s not going to say it out loud this time though. 

“Sounds good.”

They make their way to return their skates and over to the adjacent food truck serving hot chocolate. They stand close together, huddled for warmth. Later, Louis won’t recall exactly what they talked about when they stood next to the truck in their own little world, but that’s just how it is with he and Harry. They can talk about seemingly anything and everything. 

Their bubble doesn’t last.

“Hey! You’re those guys! The ones who got engaged!” 

A woman grins excitedly at them just a few feet away.

“Oh, um--yeah, I guess--”

“Can I get a picture with you guys?”

They look at each other in surprise. 

“Sure?” Louis says, silently asking Harry if it’s okay.

They take the photo, smiling with a stranger in a selfie, before she wishes them good luck and wanders away. Louis had thought the attention was dying down, and now here they are taking selfies with people as though they’re famous. He’d even been thinking about asking Harry when he thought they should end all this. And now, well, he’s just not sure what to do anymore.


	4. Chapter 4

Louis tries to not read too much into his current situation, which at this moment includes he and Harry curled up on his couch under a blanket eating cheese and caramel popcorn and watching The Great British Bake Off. Harry’s made him tea just how he likes it, and he sips it wondering quite how they got to a place in their friendship where Harry knows his way around his apartment well enough to know when he wants tea and to fix it for him with just the right amount of milk. 

He also tries not to read too much into the fact that they’ve apparently stopped the idea that they need to post photos every time they hang out. Although there are still plenty of photos of them scattered throughout social media as they are together quite a bit. And if this weekly date of watching Great British Bake Off just the two of them is anything to go by, they’ve each made a silent decision not to talk about how they don’t need to get together like this for their fake engagement. 

Louis finishes his tea and fiddles with Harry’s curls as they watch the technical challenge portion of the show, Harry leaning into his touch.

“How were your kids today, Lou?”

Louis lets out a long sigh, his fingers still tangled in Harry’s hair. “This time of year is always the worst. They can’t play outside when it gets too cold, and all they can think about is Christmas. Meanwhile, I’ve got to get them assessed before the end of the quarter for report cards.”

“Mmm, yeah. Stressful.”

Somehow, it doesn’t seem so stressful in this moment, not with Harry cuddled up with him watching Netflix, warm and solid beneath his fingers. “Yeah. I shouldn’t complain though, not with everything you’ve got going on.”

Harry attempts a shrug that doesn’t fully form as he’s pressed too closely against Louis for the motion. “It’s okay. Really. My family will be here soon, and I’ve got things in place for a proper transition. I mean, there’s a lot left to do, but I’m right on schedule.”

“Still. I know you’ve been stressing over hiring and all that.”

“Yeah, it is. But having you in my life helps a lot.”

The admission gives Louis’ heart a jolt. At first it’s just a burst of happiness that Harry’s as glad to be in his life as he is to have Harry in his, and then a slow trickle of guilt creeps in. This “engagement” is definitely keeping Harry from meeting anyone new, not with Louis monopolizing all his time. And the only friends Harry has seemed to have made have all been through Louis with the exception of Niall. 

He chews on the inside of his cheek, wondering whether he should say something. Is he taking advantage of Harry? He definitely hadn’t meant to, it just kind of happened.

The show stopper portion of the show begins, many of the contestants making celebratory bakes for weddings, and the comfortable atmosphere surrounding them fades. The more they talk about weddings, the twitchier Louis feels. His hands tuck back beneath the blanket again, and he slides them beneath himself to keep from reaching out again. It doesn’t really make him feel any less uneasy.

Harry excuses himself to go make more tea, and Louis lets his head fall back against the cushions. Had Harry felt weird, too? The lines have all blurred, and he doesn’t know where the boundaries are anymore. Is this so different than his friendships with Liam or Niall or Zayn? It’s not completely dissimilar, he argues with himself. He’s always been one for an affectionate cuddle. 

Maybe they should talk about it.

Harry walks back into the room with two mugs in his hands and just as Louis opens his mouth to get some of what he’s thinking out in the open, the key turns in the lock.

“Honey! I’m home!” Miles’ voice rings out as he wheels a suitcase in through the door and then stops. “Well, now, what have we here? Very nice, Lou!”

Miles checks Harry out from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. 

“Uh, hi?” Harry set the mugs down before offering an outstretched hand in greeting. “I’m Harry.”

“Well, hello there, Harry.” Miles makes an exaggerated wink at Louis as he shakes Harry’s hand. “Very polite. I’m Miles, Louis’ often absent roommate. Now, Louis, how could you not have warned me about your new boyfriend?”

“Fiance,” Harry corrects.

Miles’ jaw drops. “What?”

“Uhh--”

Harry’s head whips around to Louis. “Have you not told him?”

If Louis didn’t know better, he’d think Harry was upset or something. He hadn’t even thought about whether or not to tell Miles the truth, but Harry’s already sent this one way. 

“You’ve been in Japan. I guess you didn’t see anything about it on like Twitter or whatever.”

“Well, why didn’t you say something to me, Lou?” Miles looks mildly hurt and now he just feels like a jackass. 

“I’m sorry. It was just--”

“Whirlwind romance.” Harry says cooly. There’s an odd catch to his tone, one that Louis has heard before in his past boyfriends’ voices when they meet Miles: jealousy. Miles does look ridiculously handsome for just coming off a flight, but there’s definitely nothing between he and Miles. They’ve literally been friends since they were in diapers. It can’t possibly be jealousy in Harry’s voice anyway. What’s there to be jealous of?

Miles’ face flashes concern for one brief moment before a smile sweeps over his face, and he launches into one of his monologues that needs no responses as he peels off his coat and layers, kicks his shoes off, and prances off down the hall with his suitcase. “Well, this is some amazing news! I want to hear all about it! Looks like I’m interrupting date night though, and I’m exhausted. So I’ll catch up with you later, Boo Bear. Harry, I can’t wait to hear all about you and about the wedding plans! I can’t believe my mother hasn’t said anything to me! Oh my god, this is why she’s been asking me about wedding venues! I thought she was hinting that I needed a boyfriend!”

Harry looks a little shell shocked. It’s sort of a normal response to Miles. He clears his throat. “Boo Bear?”

“Great. That’s what you picked up on from all that?”

Harry grins, his eyes clear of whatever strangeness was there before. “Well, yeah.”

Louis sighs and plops back onto the couch, patting the seat next to him for Harry to resume his seat. “It’s my nickname from when I was a kid. I’ve known Miles my whole life. Our moms are friends from way back. He likes to call me that when he’s giving me shit about something.”

“Oh. Because you didn’t tell him?”

“Yeah. I just--things are just--” Louis waves his hands around and huffs out a laugh. “I don’t even know. I should probably have told him the truth? I don’t even know anymore.”

Harry nods and takes a breath. “Complicated. Things are a little complicated. I um--wasn’t sure if I should bring it up, but--”

“Yeah?”

“My mom mentioned wedding plans with me, and I guess I don’t know what to keep telling her.”

“Oh. Yeah, my mom has said stuff, too. Obviously, she’s been talking it over with Catherine. That’s Miles’ mom.”

“Well, maybe we should make some plans then,” Harry says, pressing his lips together into a line.

What the fuck? “Uhh--okay? I mean, do you mean fake plans?”

“Right. Yes. Just some things we would have planned if all this were real.”

Louis shifts a bit, so he can look directly at Harry, searching his face for a clue of some kind. Isn’t making fake wedding plans going too far? Apparently, Harry doesn’t think so. 

What’s the harm, he supposes. “Maybe something outdoors. I don’t know if you remember--”

“Yeah, that night we went bowling.”

“Yeah, the boat thing--

“Sounded really nice to me, too!”

Louis’ brain oh so helpfully provides him a mental image of he and Harry on a boat on the Chicago River. Linen suits and sunglasses on a warm May Saturday. His family. Their friends. Champagne. He blinks the image away as quickly as it had appeared. 

“That does sound nice. I guess we’ll tell people something like that. If they ask.”

  
  


Even though Miles is going to be home through the new year, he hasn’t been spending a ton of time in their apartment this week, which is just as well so he and Harry don’t have to put on a show. The lies are starting to pile up though, and there’s no end in sight that he can see.

He tries not to think about it too much, which is probably where he goes wrong. 

“Go out and have fun tonight! You can’t study on a Saturday night. You’re gonna lose your mind if all you do is study.” Louis flops down onto his bed. It’s not like he doesn’t understand Liam’s under a lot of pressure to do well. It’s Harvard after all. But he also knows his best friend. He needs a break.

He hears Liam’s long sigh through the phone. “I suppose you’re right. For once.”

Louis snorts. “For once? Payno, I’m always right.” 

Liam laughs. “You’re literally in the middle of the most insane situation you’ve ever created. But in this one instance, I think you might be right that I need a break.”

He ignores the jab about his fake engagement. “Well, you’ll be home soon for a real break anyway. We’re gonna hang out every day. It’ll be fucking sick.”

Liam pauses. “How’s your fiance going to feel about that?”

“Why would Harry care?”

“Lou, the way you’ve been talking it seems like you’re his only friend.”

“That’s not true,” he insists. “He’s got Niall for one. And Zayn and Enes.”

Liam makes a noise of exasperation. “Okay, fine. His only friends are  _ your _ friends.”

Louis is quiet for a moment. “Well, and he works a lot.”

“Mmm.” Liam laughs. “I’m actually looking forward to meeting him though. Meet the guy who took my place.” 

“Shut up. No one can take your place, and you know it.”

He can see his mom calling in, so he hangs up with Liam to answer. “Hey, Mom.”

“Hi, Boo Bear. Haven’t talked to you in a while.”

Louis sits up. “I talked to you yesterday.”

“Fine. I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Okay. I mean I saw you at Thanksgiving, but do you want me to take the train out tomorrow or something?”

“No. I mean, I’m on the train right now heading towards you.”

“Oh.”

“Well, your cousin’s bridal shower is this afternoon in the city, so I thought I’d drop in and see you, if that’s okay.”

“‘Course it is. I’ll make you some lunch.”

“Thought I’d better give you and Harry some warning that I was on my way. Wouldn’t want to walk in on anything.”

“Oh my god, Mom.” 

“Well, you said he basically lives with you now! And please make sure you pick up all his underwear before I get there.”

“Jesus. Yeah, okay. When do you think you’ll get in?”

“I just left. So about an hour and a half.”

“Cool. See you then.” He slides off the bed and heads into the living room and kitchen to see if he does indeed need to tidy up a bit before his mom comes. It honestly isn’t too bad. Miles is pretty neat, and yeah, there’s a stack of ungraded papers laying out on the kitchen table, and his coat is laying across the couch instead of hung up in his closet. And fine, there’s plenty of clutter to straighten up. 

It’s as he’s picking up a fallen photo of he and Liam at his tenth birthday party that he realizes something. There’s nothing here that shows Harry has been practically living with him as he’s claimed to his mom. Fuck. 

He fumbles with his phone, sending a text to Harry asking if he’s busy.

_ Hi! No, I’m not really busy today. Do you want to hang out? _

_ If by hang out, you mean bringing over some of your possessions and leaving them strewn around my apartment, then yes. _

_ Ooookay _

_ My mom is coming over and she thinks you’re practically living here and I’ve got nothing here that makes it look like that. _

_ Right. I’ll be right over. _

Louis lets out a sigh of relief. Harry really never lets him down. Within twenty minutes, Harry is on his doorstep carrying a box. 

“Hey, Harold. Thanks for all this.”

“No problem, really.”

Harry takes out a few books and sets them on an ottoman and then tosses one of his oversized sweaters across the back of the recliner. Some company stationary he sets on the coffee table. And then he places a framed photo of them on a side table. It’s one from Harry’s Instagram, the first selfie they took together under Niall’s art direction.

“How the hell did you get that printed out and framed in time? You’re amazing, Harry!”

Harry’s face flushes red. “Oh, didn’t take too long to just print one out. And I always have extra frames around.”

“Well, it’s the perfect touch really.” 

Harry takes his Green Bay Packers hat and puts it in the coat closet. Last, he pulls out a few baking pans and pot holders and what looks like ingredients for something. Louis must be looking at him curiously because he responds to the unanswered question. “Thought I’d make some banana bread for your mom.”

“Oh.” 

Shit. 

Harry’s staying to meet his mom. What the fuck. This is a bad idea. His mom is going to call them out ten seconds after seeing them together. They aren’t rehearsed enough. “Um, do you think that’s a good idea?”

“Does she not like banana bread?”

“She likes it, but I just meant--like are you ready--are  _ we _ ready for you to meet my mom?”

Harry starts measuring out flour. “Well, we had to meet sometime. Might as well be today.” 

Louis just stares at the back of Harry’s head as he starts whistling and measuring out baking powder. He doesn’t say that, no he hadn’t planned on Harry meeting his family. Clearly, Harry has other ideas about this. 

Nerves churn in his stomach. How long is this really going to go on for? Surely not to Christmas. Fuck, how are they going to get out of this before Christmas?

He doesn’t say anything, but his nerves are beginning to get the better of him. He needs to sit down. Staring blankly at Harry as he bakes bread is somewhat soothing, but his mother’s imminent arrival has him ever so slightly terrified.

Harry glances back over his shoulder and gives him a smile. “Lou?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s gonna be fine. Moms love me. Promise.”

He can’t help but smile back even though Harry has already turned back to the bowl. He’s still whistling and shaking his hips to the tune. It’s not like there’s anything he can do to stop this runaway train at this point. He’s just going to have to deal with things as they come.

“So is there anything I can do to help?”

“Nope. Just sit there and look pretty.” Harry turns a blinding smile on him. “You can be my trophy husband.”

“Fuck off,” Louis says over the sound of Harry’s cackle. 

The sound of the door buzzer breaks them out of the moment, and he can’t help the bit of panic that rises to the surface. 

“It’ll be fine, Lou.” Harry’s voice, deep and quiet, washes over him. There’s just something about Harry that calms him. 

He draws in a deep breath before opening the door. “Hey, Mom.”

His mom wraps him a tight hug and then stands back to look at him, still clutching his arms as though she’s not yet ready to let go. “You look wonderful, Boo Bear. Being in love really suits you.”

Louis huffs out a laugh. 

“What is that I smell cooking? Don’t tell me you tried to bake something? 

“Uh, no. It’s Harry. He felt a sudden urge to bake you banana bread.”

The utter delight on his mother’s face surprises him. “I already love him!” 

She squeezes Louis’ arm and then releases him in favor of heading towards the kitchen. Louis follows close behind.

Harry’s just sliding the bread into the oven. “Hello, Mrs. Deakin. So sorry to greet you like this, but I just wanted to quickly get this in the oven for us.” He takes off his oven mitts and extends his hand. “I’m so happy to meet you.”

Of course, his mom goes in for a hug instead, practically squeezing Harry to death. Not that he seems to mind it. “Oh, you darling boy! You’ve made my Boo Bear so incredibly happy!”

Oh god. Harry looks perfectly pleased though as his mom releases him from the hug. “I’m glad you think so, Mrs. Deakin. That’s all I want really--to make Louis happy.”

His mom squeals and hugs him again, and Louis tries not to roll his eyes when Harry gives him a look over the top of his mom’s head. He looks smug as hell. “Please call me Jay. We’re going to be family soon. No need for formalities.”

“Thank you, Jay. Please sit down, and I’ll make you and Louis a cup of tea.”

“If he hadn’t already asked you to marry him, I’d tell you to propose now,” his mother declares as she sits at the table to wait for her tea.

Harry turns his dimples out in full force, and that’s when he knows his mom never stood a chance, not when Harry’s on a charm offensive. Harry offers him a brief wink and a smirk before turning back to their tea, and Louis is left with a flutter in his chest.

The first thing Louis notices is that Harry looks like he’s been hiking in Antarctica. His nose is red, and his cheeks look wind bitten beneath his stupid Packers hat. How many of those hats does he have anyway? “Are your teeth chattering? What did you do, walk here?”

“Took--the--El,” Harry says with a shiver as he stomps his boots on the welcome mat before coming inside.

“Why the fuck did you take the El?” It’s not like Harry can’t afford to take an Uber or something. “Don’t rich people have car services and shit anyway?”

Harry looks a bit foolish for a minute. “Actually, the company does have a car service, but I never use it except for business. I should have taken an Uber, but--” He shrugs.

Louis narrows his eyes and waits. 

“Fine,” Harry sighs and flops down on the couch. “I wanted to feel more like a Chicagoan or whatever.” 

Louis can’t help the burst of laughter that builds from his chest and bubbles out. “Christ, Harry. Next time, try it when it’s not below zero.”

“Noted,” Harry says, a sheepish grin on his face as he pulls his coat off revealing a red sweater.

“Oh.”

“What?”

Louis points to his own chest. “We’re both wearing red sweaters.”

Harry’s probably costs double, probably triple, what Louis’ sweater costs, but they really do look quite similar. “Is that a problem do you think?”

Louis shrugs. “I guess not. Except we look like those couples who match on purpose.”

Harry leans back into the couch like he belongs there, his dimples creasing into his face. “Maybe fate wants us to be that couple.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Always thought it was cheesy when people did that.”

“I think you meant sweet and romantic.”

“I definitely did not,” Louis replies with a snort. “It’s fine though. It’s just my work party. Probably gives us credibility points or something.”

Louis’ coworkers definitely agree with Harry when they arrive in the banquet room of the restaurant. He introduces Harry around, and practically everyone wants to talk to them and take photos that are sure to end up on their social media. He wishes he’d changed his sweater. 

But Louis loves his coworkers, and Harry charms them all with his politeness. God, when this is all over, he’ll never find someone they’ll all like as much as Harry. This isn’t the introduction he’s most nervous about tonight though. 

Liam’s home. 

After the party, they head back to Louis’ place to get ready to go out with all their friends to welcome Liam back into the fold. No matter what Harry’s brought to change into, Louis’ pretty positive there’s no chance it’ll be anything like his own outfit. 

When Harry emerges from the bathroom, he’s suddenly hit with the memory of Harry that first night they met. Long legs encased in skin tight denim, tattoos on display, lips pink and full, that smirk of a smile. He’s wearing the exact same outfit, and Louis can’t seem to tear his eyes away. It takes a minute for his brain to mentally shake himself. 

“You look great, Harold.” His voice is more hoarse than he’d like. Maybe he’s getting the beginnings of a cold. 

“Thanks, Lou. You look amazing as always. The blue really brings out your eyes.”

“Uh, thanks. Yeah, I think my mom bought me this for my birthday actually.”

“Speaking of your birthday, are we--”

The door buzzes Liam’s arrival. It isn’t until he’s being swung around in a Liam bear hug that he feels a swoop of nerves in his stomach about introducing him to Harry. He’s not even sure why it feels so momentous. But it really is. Liam is his best friend in the world, and Harry already feels important to his life. 

Liam releases him and looks straight to Harry who has his hand outstretched. There’s a funny look on Harry’s face that disappears so quickly, Louis thinks he might have imagined it, a friendly smile appearing in its place. 

Liam shakes his hand and then looks straight to Louis, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head. 

“What?”

“Nothing.” Liam has the worst poker face of all time. 

Louis can see it coming before it happens. For fuck’s sake, Liam looks like he’s about to pee himself trying to hold himself together. Then, uncontrollable laughter pours out of him like the breaking of a dam.

“Sorry, sorry,” Liam gasps.

“What?” Louis demands, hands on his hips.

Harry simply looks mystified, but wisely says nothing at the outburst.

“Things just--make sense now is all,” Liam chokes out.

Louis turns to Harry. “Liam’s clearly losing his mind. He’s been under a lot of stress lately.”

He has a bad feeling he knows why Liam is laughing. 

Harry just nods though he’s clearly confused by what’s happening. 

“I’m just gonna show Liam--something in my room--oh, uh I mean, he hasn’t seen my new bedroom at all actually.” He’s about as subtle as Liam with all this fumbling. “He hasn’t seen it since Miles gave me the biggest bedroom. It just makes sense with him never being here and yeah--”

He grabs Liam by the arm and starts marching him towards his bedroom. Throwing a glance over his shoulder to make sure Harry has stayed in the living room, he then closes the door a bit. “What are you doing?”

Liam takes a breath, trying to calm himself. “Sorry. It’s just--I get it now.”

“Get what?” he hisses.

“I get why this thing with Harry has gone on as long as it has.”

“And why is that?”

“Lou. Come on. I mean, I saw Harry in the video and a few photos, but in person? Please. It’s like you listed the traits you find attractive and put them all into one person.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Fine, Harry is attractive and whatever, but it’s not like--”

“Tall,” Liam checks  _ tall _ off on his fingers. “Long legs, broad shoulders, muscular but not too muscular, tattoos, curly hair.”

Liam continues to list more of Harry’s traits, checking off his fingers as he goes. And Louis finds himself growing more and more irritated. 

“You know Harry is more than just a pretty face. He’s a really cool guy when you get to know him. And he’s got this really stupid sense of humor but it’s hilarious at the same time. And he always asks questions and actually listens to your answers. And he remembers things about conversations you had weeks ago, months even. Because he cares. He cares so much about—“

Liam looks even more smug. “And here I had thought you were just caught up in the whirlwind of it all. You’re actually falling for him.”

“No, I’m not.” He responds so quickly that it takes a second to process. He’s not, is he? 

“Oh, Lou. If you could only see how confused you look right now.” Liam claps him on the shoulder, jostling him off balance. “The way you’ve talked about him--I kept thinking it sounded like he was your new best friend. But now I can see I was wrong. You’ve been talking about him like he’s the new love of your life.”

There’s a rushing of blood through his ears as his heart pounds and his mind races. This can’t be true. But when has Liam ever said anything like this before? He starts feeling a little unsteady on his feet and thinks it best to sit before he falls over.

When he glances up, it’s to a look of concern on Liam’s face. “Lou? It’s not a bad thing. I mean, I think it’s probably a really good thing if Harry’s half as amazing as you say he is.”

“We’re friends,” he says. It even sounds stupid to his own ears. 

Liam sits next to him on the bed. “Yeah, I know. You guys sound like you hit it off immediately. Thats--kind of a good thing really. A good beginning for a relationship.”

“We’re  _ just _ friends though. And I don’t think--I can’t--I’m not ready.”

Liam sighs. “Okay. That’s fair. If you’re really sure you’re not ready. But also I wouldn’t want you to give up on something great before it’s even begun.”

“Being Harry’s friend is already something great. And--and he’s never said he wants to be anything more than that.”

“Well, I’ll give you my honest opinion after I’ve been around the two of you for a while, okay? If I really think there’s nothing else there, I’ll never say another word about it. I mean, you could be right. Maybe it’s just the beginning of a beautiful friendship. It just happens to be with your dream man.”

“Shut up,” Louis laughs and Liam joins him.

“Probably get back out there before we worry Harry any more than we already have.”

“Glad to have you home, Payno.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Damn, Lou. You really _ are _ in love.”

“What?” he squeaks. He manages to stop himself from immediately insisting he isn’t. He’s supposed to be in love. He’s supposed to be engaged. 

Lottie shakes her head. “You’re pacing the living room, and you keep looking out the window. Can’t remember ever seeing you this nervous--well, ever really.”

“Yes, well, I am nervous. He’s going to run in the opposite direction when he meets this lot.”

Fizzy punches him in the arm. “We’re fantastic, asshole.”

“Please refrain from hitting him if you wouldn’t mind.”

“No promises,” she says with a sweet smile.

“Mommmm, Fizzy says she’s gonna hit my fiance!”

Jay walks into the living room, a beautifully wrapped silver box in her arms. “No violence in the house. Even if he’s soon to be family.”

This is all a terrible, horrible idea. Louis is an awful person. The worst person ever to have let this drag out so long that Harry’s coming here to meet his family as his fiance instead of his friend. His stomach flips over. What made him think this was a good idea again?

The doorbell rings. “Oh shit.”

“I’ll get it!” Doris races to the door from out of nowhere and flings it open. “Hi, Harry! I’m Doris! I heard you don’t have any little sisters, so now I’m going to be your little sister.”

Christ.

Harry looks taken aback at first, gorgeous, but surprised. He takes his hat off, black and grey, no green and yellow in sight. His eyes dart around the room until they find Louis, and Harry’s face seems to relax just at the sight of him. 

Harry’s dressed in proper meet the family fashion. Lottie takes his dark wool coat from him to reveal a cream, cable knit sweater and dark, fitted trousers. He’s pretty sure he’s never seen Harry dressed so conservatively. 

It finally occurs to him he should be greeting Harry, so he jumps to his feet and rushes over for a hug and a quick peck on the lips. They really should have discussed this before, but it just feels right in the moment, especially with everyone watching them. Harry just grins, his dimples on display. “Hello, Louis’ family.”

“Right. Well, everyone--this is Harry. Harry this is--” He begins pointing to them one by one. “Charlotte, Felicite, Doris, Ernie, Phoebe, and Daisy. This is my step dad, Dan. And you know my mom.”

“Of course. It’s lovely to see you again, Jay. And lovely to meet all of you as well. Thank you so much for inviting me into your home.”

His mom immediately envelops Harry into a hug. “Of course, Harry! We get to celebrate Louis’ birthday together now don’t we? My favorite day of the year!”

“If you couldn’t tell, Louis’ the favorite child,” Lottie says.

“Oh, shush. You’re all my favorites. It’s just that since Boo Bear’s birthday’s on Christmas Eve, it means we’re all together no matter what.” Jay claps her hands together. “Now, I’m sure you know Louis loves all things traditional, so I always make our big Christmas meal for his birthday. The only difference is we always have a birthday cake for dessert.”

They all begin filing into the dining room to eat, but Harry hangs back to whisper to him. “You’re traditional?”

Louis shrugs. He’s not really given it a lot of thought, but he supposes his mom is right. He loves family and long standing friends and doing things every year that he can look forward to. 

“That makes sense actually,” Harry says as he places a hand at the small of Louis’ back, leading them to their chairs. 

Dinner is lively as is usual in Louis’ family. Chaotic might be the better word for it, but it’s everything Louis has ever wanted in a birthday. Happy faces, the anticipation of Christmas, great food, and everyone in a good mood. It’s almost strange how well Harry fits into the scene around him, talking with Dan, laughing with Doris, listening to Phoebe. 

As everyone sings _ Happy Birthday _ around his chocolate cake, lit with an array of mismatched candles, his eyes drift continually to Harry. He might be the loudest singer of the bunch. 

“Make a wish, Lou!” Ernest insists as the song ends.

His eyes lock once again with Harry’s. There’s something gleaming there that makes Louis’ breath catch in his chest. He doesn’t make a wish, but there’s a feeling that’s been locked away inside him that seems to surface as he blows out the candles. Whatever it is, he wants to keep it.

A pile of gifts sit next to him, waiting to be opened. He gets started on them as everyone eats cake and mint chocolate chip ice cream. 

“Open mine first, Louis!” Doris shouts.

It’s clear which is Doris’ gift as it’s wrapped in plain white drawing pages that she’s decorated with drawings of Louis. 

“I don’t want to rip any of these drawings! They’re amazing, love! I’m going to keep them all and hang them up at home.”

Doris preens at the thought. “Just open it!”

Inside is a framed drawing. “It’s me and you, Louis!”

“Of course it is, darling! I absolutely love it! Where should I keep it do you think? At work on my desk or at home on my table?”

“Wherever you’ll see it most!”

“Deal.”

He opens each gift, making sure each person knows how much he appreciates the present. And he does. They’re all so personal and perfect. Gloves for his cold ride to work, a new wallet with photos of his family members already inside, a soft cashmere sweater from his mom and Dan along with an envelope of cash, and then he reaches the last gift, a silver one, wrapped much more elegantly than any of the rest.

His fingers tremble a bit as he unwraps the gift, everyone’s eyes on him. Inside is an ornately decorated treasure chest in green and gold and etched with the words Laduree. He doesn’t have a clue what that means until he opens the chest to find row upon row of colorful macarons. “Woah.”

“I just thought--well, you have a sweet tooth obviously, and I figured if you opened it here--you could share with your family.”

“It’s perfect, Harry. Do you want one Ernie? Go ahead and pick one.”

“What are they?” Ernest says, his nose scrunched up in question. 

“They’re a very special cookie from France,” Lottie replies. “I bet you’ll like it.”

Ernest shrugs. “Okay.”

There’s a flurry of everyone choosing one or a few macarons and soon the satisfying noises of tasting something delicious. Louis takes a bite of a pink one that turns out to be strawberry flavored and meets Harry’s gaze across the table. They share a smile, one of contentment, and Louis can’t remember the last time he felt this—whatever _ this _ is. He can’t seem to put a name to how he feels when he’s with Harry and his family, but he supposes the simplest way to put it is—happy. 

He turns to his mom to say something and the words die on his lips at the sight of her beaming face, her bright smile filling his heart to the brim. She catches him watching and scoots her chair slightly closer. 

“Such a thoughtful gift. I suppose he wants to give you an early preview of the honeymoon.”

A lump forms in his throat, a reminder that none of this is real. He nods, not sure he’d be able to reply without giving something away. They’ll be hurt by all this when the truth comes out, he knows, and that’s the worst part of it. 

The night turns to eggnog and games and conversation, and when Jay begins to usher the youngest twins to their beds, Harry offers to clean up. They clear dishes and scrub pans, their hips nudging each other as Harry washes and Louis dries. 

Jay returns to the table to have a glass of wine with them. “Thank you, boys, for cleaning up.”

“The least I could do, Mrs. Deakin.” 

“Now, Harry. You know I want you to call me Jay.”

Harry nods and smiles before glancing at his watch “I should probably--”

“You can stay. Here. If you want.” Louis isn’t sure where the words come from. He hadn’t meant to say them. 

“Yes, Harry, you’re more than welcome to stay. You can have a kir with me.” Jay jumps up from the table to make more drinks as if the decision’s already been made.

No one seems to notice Harry’s lack of a response. Now that Harry’s sitting next to him, Louis can see his long fingers pressed into his thighs and the way he worries his bottom lip with his teeth. 

“You don’t have to, you know,” Louis whispers as Harry turns at the sound of his quiet voice. “Stay, I mean. It’s okay if you want to go.”

There’s a twitch in Harry’s jaw before he answers, his voice kept low. “I want to. I want to stay.”

“Okay.” His mom returns with small flutes of her favorite sweet drinks as the adults sit and reminisce about Christmas traditions and tell tales of Louis’ childhood to the newcomer in their midst. 

As Lottie tells a story about Louis eating all the candy in her stocking, a hand closes over his own and squeezes. He glances at Harry who keeps his eyes on Lottie, just smiling. It’s in this moment that Louis wishes things between them were real. His heart thumps a beat out of time. 

He wishes this was all real. 

He does. He wishes he really had been swept off his feet, and he was now sitting at his birthday dinner with his family and his soon-to-be husband. 

Jay stands up and begins gathering up the glasses off the table.

“Here, let me,” Harry says. 

Jay smiles, her eyes a bit tired now. “Thank you. Think I’ll head off to bed. Tomorrow’s another big day!”

The table clears. His sisters heading upstairs to bed, Jay and Dan heading off down the hall to the master bedroom. 

And now, they’re alone. 

Louis grabs a few glasses and heads into the kitchen after Harry who’s already filling the sink with soapy bubbles. He touches Harry’s back in a way that he knows is too familiar, and yet it feels so right. 

“Mm.” Harry just makes a small sound and smiles. “Your family is amazing, Lou.”

“Yeah, they have their moments, don’t they?”

“I really liked them a lot.”

“They really liked you, too.”

A thousand thoughts run through his head, but he doesn’t say any of them out loud, afraid to break this fragile mood. When they finish the dishes, Louis leads him up the staircase to his bedroom, still adorned with soccer posters, a time capsule of his childhood. Harry stares around at the things in the room as if to study them for clues. “I like your posters.”

“Yeah? I mean, sure I was into soccer. But I admit I was also into men in shorts.”

Harry snorts. “So um—I’ll just sleep in my boxers if that’s okay.”

Louis coughs. “‘Course. I probably have some sweatpants and a t shirt if you’d rather.”

“Oh, actually I usually sleep nude, but uh—“

Louis rubs the back of his neck and tries not to think about Harry without any clothes on. “Right. Cool. I mean, boxers is fine, not—yeah. Anyway, that door is a bathroom but it’s shared with Lottie on the other side, so just make sure you lock the door when you’re in there.”

Harry nods. “Great. So do you want to get ready first? Or—“

“Yeah, okay, just be a minute.”

He scurries into the bathroom, grateful for a moment to compose himself. Looking at the bright red of his flushed cheeks in the mirror, he silently tells his reflection to get ahold of himself. 

As he brushes his teeth, he rummages around to find a spare toothbrush for Harry and sets out a towel as well. Splashing his face with water helps him calm down a little and he opens the door to the sight of Harry in the tightest, smallest pair of black boxer briefs he’s ever seen and nearly chokes on his tongue. 

He’s seen the tattoos on Harry’s arms and peeking out of his shirt on his chest, but what he can see now is a lot to handle. Harry’s got more than a few tattoos, some near his broad shoulders and up his biceps and on his thighs. When Liam had teased him about being attracted to Harry, he had known that it was true, but now it’s so overwhelming he nearly feels dizzy with it. 

Harry motions towards the door and slips by him to head into the bathroom, leaving a trail of the scent of his cologne in the air. As soon as the door closes, Louis flops onto the bed and groans.

“Did you say something, Lou?” Harry’s muffled voice says from still inside the bathroom.

“Nothing!”

Christ. 

Pajamas. He’s got to change. He jumps up from the bed and quickly shoves his clothes off putting on clean boxers and a t shirt before crawling back into bed, this time beneath the blankets. 

Harry walks back in, and Louis can’t keep his eyes off him, so he quickly turns off the lamp next to him. The room goes dark, darker than he’d intended, and then there’s a thump and an _ ow _. 

Shit. He quickly sits up and turns the lamp back on to the sight of Harry holding his toe and wincing in pain. “Sorry, sorry! Shouldn’t have turned it off so quick.”

He can’t keep his eyes off the way the small amount of fabric stretches over Harry’s--nope, nope, nope. Stop looking. He has to stop looking. 

Harry stops hopping around and sits on the edge of the bed facing away from him, and Louis can’t stop his overly active imagination from wondering what it would be like if he just let his hand slide over the bare skin of Harry’s back and up over his shoulders before he pressed his lips right there in the curve of his neck. Fuck.

Louis flops back and stares at the ceiling and tries to think about things other than touching Harry. Baseball, Niall after he’s eaten too much Mexican food, his Nan’s ninetieth birthday party. 

He feels the dip in the bed when Harry lies down beside him. “You want to get the light, Lou?”

“Oh. Right. Of course.” He sits up long enough to turn the lamp off before laying back down. He pulls the comforter right up to his nose and shivers a little. “Kinda cold in here.”

There’s a rustle of movement next to him. “You’re cold? I’m kind of warm actually.” 

Louis’ eyes have adjusted to the dark. A bit unfortunate really seeing as how now he can see that the blanket is only covering Harry’s lower half, his chest bare. Louis scrambles out of bed. “Gonna get another blanket.”

He races out of the room and down the hall to the linen closet to grab out another blanket, grabbing another one for good measure. Multiple layers between he and Harry seems like a good idea.

The sight of Harry sprawled out on his childhood bed with his hands behind his head, a blanket barely covering him at all, nearly has him dropping the blankets. 

“I turned the light back on, so you don’t trip.”

Why must Harry’s voice be so deep and send shivers racing down his spine? “Thanks.”

He settles back into the bed in a nest of blankets and feels like an idiot. Has he been obvious about this? A glance at Harry tells him yes, if that smirk on his face is anything to go by. 

The light’s still on, so he has to sit back up and turn it off. As he turns back to lie down again, he feels the touch of Harry’s hand at his waist, right where his shirt has ridden up a little, exposing his skin just above his boxers. The touch stills him.

“If you’re cold, I don’t mind a cuddle.”

“Oh.”

Harry snorts. “It’s not like we haven’t cuddled before, Lou.”

Louis doesn’t point out that it was never in a bed with hardly any clothing on. “Right. Yeah. I know.”

Before he can say anything he feels the warmth of Harry’s arms wrapped around him, hauling him in closer. Heat seems to radiate from Harry, and he can’t stop himself from nudging his cold nose against Harry’s chest. Harry flinches.

“Sorry. Told you I was cold.”

“It’s fine,” Harry laughs. 

There’s no chance he’ll be able to sleep like this. None at all. But it turns out that the beat of Harry’s heart against his cheek is a soothing sound, and he’s asleep almost as soon as they get settled in bed. 

Waking up is a different matter. He’s having a dream. A very good dream. The feel of someone grinding against his ass, rubbing up and down against him. Fuck that feels good. 

And then the good feelings are all suddenly ripped away. 

“Shit, shit, fuck.!”

Louis opens his eyes to the sight of Harry standing at the foot of the bed, his cock obviously hard in his underwear. Can he help it if his eyes go there first? 

Harry must notice because he grabs one of the blankets of the bed and wraps it around himself. “Sorry, Lou. Sorry. I just--”

“It’s okay. Really. I assume you were sleeping and didn’t realize--”

“Um, yeah. Just gonna--” Harry darts to the bathroom, and Louis huffs out a laugh. Well, at least he knows he’s not the only one affected.

  
  


Louis blows out a long, slow breath that puffs a small white cloud of frost around him as he exits the Uber and walks towards Harry’s building, holding a poorly wrapped gift and feeling deeply out of his element. They tend not to hang out at Harry’s. It’s not like he’s forgotten how fancy the lobby is or the people in it, but he’s been kind of putting it out of his mind for the most part.

Can’t really do that now though. He takes the elevator to Harry’s floor accompanied by a woman with the smallest dog he’s ever seen in a purse that probably costs more than his rent. Okay, _ definitely _ costs more than his rent. He tries to take some calming breaths, but he’s afraid he’s about to start hyperventilating instead. 

The woman with the dog gives him a strange look. God, the neighbors are going to start asking about the odd man who comes around to see the Styles boy. Why is he this nervous anyway? He’s never been this nervous about meeting anyone’s family, so why is he nervous about meeting his fake fiance’s? 

The door dings, and he’s forced to leave the elevator and make his way towards Harry’s apartment. He’d like to take a few minutes to calm down, but he doesn’t want to be late. He’s barely put his hand to the door to knock, when the door swings open to reveal Harry, looking a bit disheveled with a Santa suit apron on. 

“Lou! Merry Christmas!” 

Harry’s arms stretch out wide to envelop him in a hug, and he has a brief moment of panic wondering if he’s supposed to kiss him or not. Harry can’t get a good grip on him with the gift between them and Louis’ face ends up smushed into Harry’s shoulder, but luckily, no one sees their awkwardness. “Merry Christmas, Harry.”

Harry smiles. “Everyone’s in the kitchen. You can put the gift under the tree.”

Louis locates the silver tree, set before the large windows and twinkling with white lights, and sets his gift and a few envelopes beneath the tree. His palms sweat a little at how much it sticks out compared to the other gifts, which all look professionally wrapped. He swallows and follows Harry into the kitchen.

Harry wraps an arm around his waist as they enter the kitchen, loudly announcing Louis’ arrival. “Everyone, this is Louis. Louis, this is my mom, Anne.”

“Nice to meet you.” He tries to smile at the beautiful woman whom Harry greatly resembles. She’s dressed impeccably, and he’s very glad Miles let him raid his closet today. 

“And this is my dad, Des. And my sister, Gemma.”

“Hello, really nice to meet you all.” He holds out a hand to Anne first. She scoffs and enfolds him in a brief hug, his nose catching the scent of an expensive perfume.

“Louis, you have no idea how happy we are to meet you. We can’t wait to welcome you to the family.” She gives a glowing smile to Harry and then back to him. “You’ve taken good care of our Harry. I’ve never seen him so happy.”

He can’t stop the thrill that runs through him at her words. Does Harry really seem like the happiest he’s been to his own family? 

A glance at Harry tells him there’s something to it with the bright red stain across Harry’s cheeks right now, but Harry quickly turns away towards the oven, pulling out what looks to be a cherry pie and setting it on the counter. 

“Everything’s ready!” Harry announces. 

The table is set quite formally, and the counters are crowded with trays of food. “Wait, did you cook all this?”

“Surely, you know what a great cook he is by now,” Gemma scoffs. “But my mom and I did help with some of it. Not like he could have cooked everything when he spent the night _ elsewhere _.”

Gemma gives Harry a nudge, her eyebrows waggling, and Harry looks scandalized. “We were at Louis’ mother’s house!” 

“Well, it all smells amazing,” Louis interrupts. 

Louis is grateful that dinner is served first. It gives him some time to calm down and process things as they eat. But as the meal progresses, it’s clear that Harry’s family wants to know everything about him. Only fair, he reminds himself. They think they’re getting married after all.

“So you grew up in Chicago then?” Des asks.

“In the suburbs actually. We moved around a little when I was young, but then we moved to Schaumburg when I was in fourth grade. My mom’s a nurse, and she got a job at the children’s hospital there.”

“Oh, lovely!” Anne responds. “It’ll be nice to have a nurse in the family. You’ll have to give me her phone number. She and I should start talking wedding plans.”

Fuck. “Yeah, um--of course.”

“Speaking of wedding plans,” Gemma begins. “Are we talking about a wedding here in Antarctica or a destination wedding. My vote is for somewhere warm. Hawaii or Fiji, maybe the Maldives...oh, what about Bali?”

“You don’t get a vote, Gem.” Harry shakes his head. “And Chicago is hardly Antarctica.”

“Sure feels like it,” she grumbles. “Sorry, Louis.”

Louis just laughs. “Well, winter isn’t exactly Chicago’s best selling point, so no offense taken.”

“There’s plenty to do in Chicago during the winter.” Harry looks a bit mulish as though _ he’s _ the one who has taken offense. “Louis took me ice skating and to the art museum, and there’s ZooLights and Christkindlmarket and--”

“Okay, okay!” Gemma raises her hands in surrender. “No need. I’m sure I’ll find things to love about Chicago when I’ve lived here longer than a few weeks. And I do already love Michigan Avenue, so there’s that.”

“Now, Louis, I assumed you two would be wanting to have the wedding here near your family.” Apparently, Anne isn’t one to be deterred. “If that’s the plan, I hope you know that cost is no object. Please don’t cut any corners as Des and I are willing to pay for the entire thing if that’s okay with you both. It can be our gift.”

Stunned would be an understatement for how Louis is feeling right now. “I--wow--that’s so kind of you both. Uh--Harry?”

“Well, we don’t have any firm plans yet, but thank you. It’s so generous of you both.”

Anne waves away the compliment. “You know it’s no issue. I just want you both to have your dream wedding.”

Harry smiles and pats her hand. And Louis can’t help but think what a good actor he is.

Anne eyes gleam a bit brighter. “Harry, in some ways you’re quite adventurous, but in this, in love, you’ve always been so careful, so afraid to be hurt. It’s quite something to see you like this now. I know this is it for you. Louis is the one. And I couldn’t be happier about it.”

It’s almost an out of body experience for Louis, looking down at the disaster he’s caused Harry and his family. He’d thought it was going to be awful to let his own family down, but this seems to have added on to it exponentially. He can’t bear to look at Harry right now. So he stares at his plate and hopes he just looks affected by the lovely words instead of panicked. 

Des clears his throat. “Well, before your mother starts crying, what’s say I whip us all up some coffee and serve the pie while we open gifts?”

Louis is thankful for the reprieve and wonders if Des saw something on his face or not. He gives Harry a weak smile as they gather around the glittering tree as Des brings out slices of Harry’s cherry pie and cups of some of the best coffee Louis’ ever tasted. 

His gift still sticks out, but it’s the least of his worries anymore. Christ. They’re in even deeper than he dreamed they were. 

They each open a few things, and Louis is thankful he brought gifts for everyone since they’ve got gifts for him, too. He opens sweaters and ties and belts that probably cost more than his entire wardrobe put together. 

But Harry’s family seem delighted by the CityPass he got each of them.

Anne smiles. “Why this is so thoughtful, Louis! We’re still settling in and haven’t been anywhere yet. It’s perfect for me in particular as I’ll be wanting to see where might be a good fit for our charitable contributions.”

“I guess you’re going to force me to get to know Chicago, huh?” Gemma teases. “I do love aquariums though. That’ll be my first stop, I’m sure.”

“It all looks interesting to me,” Des claims, reading over the brochure.

When Louis opens a gift containing items from the Art Institute gift shop along with a membership, he protests a bit. “You already got me a gift, Harry!”

“That was a birthday gift! This is your Christmas gift. Don’t short change yourself, babe.”

“Well, I’m feeling very spoiled. Thank you.”

There’s an odd glint in Harry’s eyes. “You deserve to be spoiled.”

Louis’ nerves kick up a little when Harry opens his gift and laughs, seemingly delighted with its contents. The box is filled with Chicago gear. A Cubs t shirt, a Bulls hat, a Blackhawks jersey, a Second City hoodie, a tin of Garrett’s Popcorn, and a CityPass to match his family’s. 

“I thought it might be nice if you all wanted to go together to some of those places. We only went to the art museum, and you can substitute for the Museum of Science and Industry, so--”

“It’s wonderful, Louis.” Harry clasps Louis’s face in his hands and presses his lips to one cheek, just catching the corner of his lips. “I love it. I love all of it.”

Harry shrugs on the Second City hoodie over his shirt, and everyone opens the rest of their gifts in between bites of cherry pie. 

Someone turns on The Christmas Story, and Louis finds himself snuggled into Harry’s side on the couch drinking eggnog and listening to the Styles’ family tell stories about each other. If this engagement was real, Louis would have felt like this all went really well. 

“You can stay tonight if you want,” Harry whispers into his ear at one point. It makes a shiver run across his skin.

He can’t stay though even if it wasn’t a bad idea. “I have plans to spend the day with Liam tomorrow, so I need to get home.”

“Oh. Cool.” 

Harry walks him to the door then, and even though no one can see them, Harry reaches a hand out to brush across Louis’ cheek. If Louis hadn’t been confused about what’s going on between them, he most certainly is now. 

“Thanks for coming, Louis. I hope you had a good time.”

“I did. Your family is amazing..”

“They’ve fallen in love with you already.”

“Well, it’s mutual. They were lovely.”

It’s then that Louis notices the mistletoe strung with silver ribbon from a chandelier above them. Harry follows his gaze and then stares back at him in that way he always does. 

Harry leans in to press his lips, soft against Louis’ own. The kiss is brief. Too brief to do anything but let it happen. “Merry Christmas, Lou.”

  
  


Louis feels like he’s got a hangover, but not one born of alcohol. He almost wishes it was that kind of hangover. No, this feels like an emotional one after days spent with two families believing he’s engaged to Harry. 

Disappointment settles in his gut, both in himself and the situation he’s found himself in. It had all felt so real somehow. If he’d ever imagined himself engaged to someone like Harry, this is how he would have fantasized it would be. 

For a brief moment as he lays in bed and pictures their families together. He wouldn’t have thought a powerful family like Harry’s would fit in with his own, but he rather suspects they’d mesh together in a strangely perfect way. 

It’s not like his own mom is ever cowed by anything or anyone, and Anne had immediately appreciated his mom’s career as something desirable. Gemma had talked a lot about her god children who are around the same age as the youngest twins. Des and Dan both play a lot of golf. All commonalities he hadn’t foreseen. 

And that’s not counting how well Harry fit in and how comfortable he’d been with Harry’s family. This isn’t something to be thinking about. He sits up and stretches and heads for the bathroom, mumbling a good morning to Miles who looks as though he’s headed to the gym. 

“You okay, Lou?”

“Yeah. Thanks for letting me borrow clothes yesterday.”

“Eh, you know you’re welcome to whatever. I mean, you’ll have to roll up the pants a few times so they fit but--”

“Shut up, asshole,” Louis laughs. “I’m not short. You’re just tall.” 

Miles just cackles as he heads out the door. Louis just sighs and heads for the shower.

He lets the water flow over the top of his head, raining down on him as though he could wash away these thoughts from his head. The only problem is once he stops thinking about their families, he just starts thinking about--Harry. 

His head might be a mess of confusion, but ever since Liam brought it up, he can’t help thinking about how perfect Harry is for him. He can’t help but wonder if there’s more to this on Harry’s end, too. The way Harry touches him, the way he kisses him, must mean something. The lines between them have been crossed and blurred so much as to be non existent at this point. 

The tide of Harry has lured him into deeper and deeper water, and he’s drifted so far he can no longer even see the shore. The spray of the shower does nothing to wash away the feelings that have crept to the surface. 

Just as he’s about to turn off the water, his brain conjures up an image of Harry in his bedroom, with only the smallest scrap of fabric between them, his cock rubbing up against him in his sleep. He can feel the phantom press of him now, and he curses his overactive imagination. 

God, it had felt so good. He’d wanted Harry to continue, he can admit that to himself now. He’d wanted Harry’s hand wrapped around him, just like how he has his own hand on himself now. He presses one hand against the tiled wall and keeps the other around himself, pumping slowly. He’d wanted Harry inside him, pressed against his back, his mouth at his neck, his lips speaking his name into his ear. 

He comes with the memory of Harry’s body against his and the memory of his name on Harry’s tongue. Fuck. Both of his hands press against the tiles to keep himself upright. The water rushes over his back and his bowed head. What the fuck is he doing?

His heart pounds with both the adrenaline of his actions and the panic he feels. He’s got to actually _ do _ something about this. It’s all gotten out of hand. He’s pretty sure the first step is to stop spending so much time with Harry. When was the last time he even saw Niall? Or Zayn or Enes? He’s been in a Harry bubble for weeks. 

His phone buzzes with a text as soon as he re-enters his bedroom. There’s one from Harry that he ignores for now and one from Liam asking if they’re still on for today. Just the sight of Liam’s text puts him in a better mood. 

_ What do you want to do _, he replies back to Liam. 

_ Video games at Enes’? In about an hour? _

That sounds like exactly what he needs. 

He spends the rest of the days leading up to New Year’s Eve with Liam and barely texting Harry. They hang out with their families in Schaumburg and go indoor go karting with Niall and go to the college bars they used to hang out in and make sure Liam gets his fill of Lou Malnati’s. 

It’s not until New Year’s Eve when Liam drags him to the gym after breakfast that he finally puts Louis on the spot. 

“So--” Liam begins as he spots Louis as he lifts. “What’s going on with you and Harry?”

Louis grunts. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, why hasn’t he been around? Thought I was gonna get the chance to hang out with him a lot more than this.”

“Dunno.” Louis presses the bar up. “Just felt like hanging out with you while you’re here. Maybe I don’t want to share you.”

“Pretty sure that isn’t it.” Liam pauses. “You know, Niall and Zayn think there’s something going on between you two.”

“What? No. There isn’t.” He releases the weight enough for Liam to help him bring it back to its resting spot. “Don’t know why they’d--”

“Have you kissed him?”

“I--”

“More than kissed him?”

“No!”

“But you _ have _ kissed him.”

“Well, technically _ he _ kissed _ me _. But there was mistletoe, so it doesn’t count.”

Liam snorts. 

“And the other time was like, for the benefit of his family.”

Liam snorts again.

Louis glares at him. “Fine. Go ahead and say what you want to say.”

“I already told you what I think. I thought you were falling for him, and I think you should talk to him about it.”

“What? No. What the fuck, Liam. I’m not telling him anything. This is a fake engagement that should already have ended, and it’s just spun out of control. If anything, he and I need to talk about how to end this thing.”

“What if he doesn’t want to end it?”

“Of course he does!” Louis huffs. “We just have to figure out the right way to do it without hurting everyone else.”

“Have you two talked about doing that?”

“No.” Louis lets out a long sigh. “We haven’t. I guess I’ve sort of been--avoiding him.”

“Oh shit. Are you afraid _ he’s _ gonna bring up ending it?”

“No, I just--I mean--”

Liam stands directly in front of him, hands on his shoulders, making him face him head on. “Do you want this to end? Or do you want this to be real?”

He feels helpless to deny it, so he says nothing, which is an answer in itself. 

Liam nods. “Okay. Well, that’s what I kind of thought. I think tonight would be the perfect time to tell him how you really feel. Make a fresh start with the new year and all that.”

Louis chews on his lip in thought. “Yeah. Maybe it’s time.”


	6. Chapter 6

He lets Miles pick out his clothes for tonight. A black turtleneck beneath a blue and green plaid jacket. Miles assures him it looks great as they wait for Harry to turn up. When Harry arrives, his heart nearly stops at how stunning he looks. He’s dressed quite simply for him with his black tuxedo pants and white shirt. But of course, there are details on the shirt to keep it from being ordinary, a bit of ruffle and frill. 

Miles’ chatter to the Uber driver is the only sound in the car, and the air feels thick with unsaid words. Harry has mostly sat stony faced, clearly upset about something. Louis can guess why, so he worries his lip with his teeth and decides tonight is definitely not the night to tell him he has feelings for him.

The party is in full swing at Enes’ by the time they get there. It’s been professionally catered and decorated and a DJ is already spinning music to a crowd of people on a make-shift dance floor. They find Niall in the kitchen pouring himself a drink, and at this point, drinking sounds like a great plan.

Harry remains stiff at his side as he and Niall drink shots of Irish whiskey in honor of Niall’s ancestors. When he turns, he sees Zayn handing Harry a martini. As they talk, Harry’s face softens, the creases of his face disappearing, and Louis can feel some of the pressure on his shoulders fall away. 

Soon, there’s a pair of hands on him that rarely leave, always at his waist as they talk to people or dance or eat or drink. The alcohol has done its job, invoking some much needed temporary amnesia of the past week. 

Liam tries to give him knowing looks, but he successfully ignores them. It’s not until he hears Harry loudly talking about how they met to a seven foot tall basketball player that a fog begins to lift a bit. 

“I asked Louis to go to Paris with me!”

“The first time you met? Damn, Bro. That’s hella smooth.”

“I thought so! I think he thought I was joking though, but let me tell you a secret--I wasn’t joking!”

This is apparently drunkenly hilarious to them both as Luke Cornet guffaws and Harry honk laughs. Louis excuses himself to use the bathroom, and when he returns, Harry won’t stop talking about Paris.

“Lou, let me take you to Paris in the spring.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Okay, Harry. Sure.”

“You don’t think I’m serious. Again.” Harry’s lips turn into a pout. “What if we go for our honeymoon, Lou? I think that’d be really romantic.”

“Harry, we aren’t--I mean--” Louis shakes his head. “Let’s talk about it later, yeah? When we haven’t been drinking.”

“Fine. But you’ll have to actually stop avoiding me for us to talk.”

“I wasn’t--”

Harry frowns. “You were. Why were you avoiding me, Louis? I don’t want you to avoid me.”

“Jesus. I’m sorry, Harry. Really. I just--things were so intense with--” He looks around. They really can’t have this conversation here. “Let’s talk about it later, okay?”

Harry nods, but there’s a sad look on his face that’s breaking his fucking heart. This is such a fucked up mess. How the hell did they get here? 

And then before he can think about any of it, a countdown begins.

“Ten--nine--”

He looks from the DJ and then back at Harry. 

“Eight--seven--”

Harry grasps his arms, holding him in place before him.

“Six--five--”

There’s a look of fierce determination there that Louis doesn’t understand.

“Four--three--”

Harry’s hands slide up Louis’ arms until his long fingers cradle his face, and Louis can’t help but stare into his eyes.

“Two--”

Louis’ heart starts to pound.

“One.”

Harry’s lips crash down on his, and the roar of noise and sound in his ears seems fitting for the way he feels. This kiss is so wholly different than any of their others. Can the others even be called a kiss after this one? 

His lips move over his as though to devour him right here in front of everyone, his hands moving Louis’ face into place as he seeks entrance into Louis’ mouth with his tongue. No one will hear Louis’ moan amidst the cacophony of the crowd around him all toasting the new year, which is just as well since he has no control over it. 

He tastes the vodka from Harry’s martinis on his tongue and smells the now familiar scent of Harry’s cologne on his skin. He’s not sure when he began clutching the front of Harry’s shirt, but he can’t think long enough to release it. He’s absolutely awash in Harry now. He’s a fool to have ever believed he’d ever be able to swim back to shore and away from Harry’s pull.

He’s never felt like this in his life. All he can hear and smell and taste and think is Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry. And then Harry’s hands drop from his face and his lips leave him, cold and chasing the tide. 

He’s sluggish to open his eyes, but when he does, it’s to the sight of Harry’s stunned face, his lips pink and kiss-bruised and his eyes wide and astonished. 

“I--I’m sorry. I don’t--” Someone jostles into Harry, knocking him a bit sideways. “I have to go.”

“What? No, wait, Harry, please just--”

But Harry’s already turning to begin weaving his way through the crowd. Louis tries to keep up, but he gets stopped first by Enes and then just as he’s nearly reached Harry, his path is blocked. 

“Hi, Louis.”

“Justin.” 

Fucking hell. He looks over Justin’s shoulder in time to see Harry make it to the front door. 

“Where’s your fiance?”

Fuck his life honstly. “Just walked out the door.”

“Trouble in paradise?”

Louis just huffs out a humorless laugh. “Fuck off, Justin.”

He steps around Justin and makes his way to the door, running out into the bitter cold, but of course, he’s too late. Harry’s nowhere to be seen.

  
  


Months ago, Louis woke to the sound of his phone buzzing so incessantly he’d thought a fly was buzzing around in his bedroom.

His phone is buzzing like that again. 

His eyes fly open and focus on the phone that is slowly moving across his nightstand. From here, he can see the flood of notifications on his lock screen. Fuck. He wracks his brain for what could possibly have happened, and his mind floods with the memory of Harry’s kiss. But no, that wouldn’t be news. 

Is it that Harry left last night? Ran off into the night? Did that somehow get spread around? Has their farce of an engagement finally come to an end?

His hand can’t reach his phone fast enough, knocking it to the floor before he scrambles off the bed to grab it. There’s a mess of various things in his notifications, but many of them have something to do with a wedding. Confused, he clicks open something he’s been tagged in on Instagram. 

“Fuck. What the fuck?”

His hands shake as he stares at the post, a photo of himself smiling last night, apparently taken by Harry and posted just before midnight. The caption says, _ Taking this man to Paris in the spring. May sixteenth sounds like a good day for a wedding, don’t you think? _

Well. That explains all the texts saying they’re saving the date. 

Heart pounding, he scrolls through his contacts looking for Harry’s. Not going to bother texting when Harry’s notifications surely look like his own right now. The phone rings and rings until finally going to voicemail. He hangs up.

With a groan, he lays back down across his bed. “What the fuck is my life right now?”

“Lou, you okay in there?”

“Yeah,” he calls out weakly. “You can come in.”

Miles opens the door. “Where’s Harry?”

“Home. I guess.”

“Okay.” Miles studies him for a moment and then comes in to sit on the bed next to him. “I saw you guys set the date. So I guess I thought you’d be together somewhere--”

Louis doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He settles for a choked hiccup of a laugh. “Yeah, I guess we did.”

“Lou, what’s going on?”

Louis just shakes his head and continues to stare at the ceiling. “I have no idea.”

Miles pats him on the head. “Well, I know what to do.”

“You do?”

“Yep. Be right back.”

Louis hears the door to their apartment open and close and only briefly wonders where Miles has gone off to. He returns shortly though and appears in the doorway with doughnuts and coffee. 

“Come eat in the kitchen and then take a shower. Liam’s coming over. I told you I knew what to do. Coffee, doughnuts, Liam. You’re welcome.”

He can’t help but smile. “Thanks, Miles.”

“Anytime.”

Liam says nothing when Louis lets him in, just goes right in for a hug. Louis sinks into it and lets the comfort of his best friend’s arms hold the weight of his troubles if just for a moment. 

“So--do you want to talk or not talk? I’m up for either.”

Louis lets a whoosh of air blow from his lips and leads Liam to the couch. He’s not sure where Miles went off to, but he appreciates that he’s made himself scarce right now. “I guess I need to talk. I thought about what you said--about telling Harry I have feelings for him, but somehow everything just went wrong last night.”

“Okay. I guess I’m confused about how you two set a wedding date then, but--”

“I’m honestly as shocked as you are by that. I had no idea he posted that until this morning.”

Liam’s eyes open wide. “Wait, what?”

Louis sighs. “We’d been drinking obviously. So I thought it wasn’t a good time to talk about anything. Plus, he seemed a little--pissed or something that I’d been hanging out with you so much.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, he just said I was ignoring him.”

“Yeah, well you were.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Fine, whatever. Anyway, once he started drinking everything sort of went back to normal. Well, until he kissed me at midnight.”

“Oh shit. I guess I should have seen that coming.”

“Well, I didn’t either, I guess. But um--it wasn’t really like our other kisses.”

Liam lets out a bark of laughter. “Not a peck on the cheek in front of his mom, huh?”

Louis can feel the heat rise in his cheeks at the thought of that kiss. “No. It definitely wasn’t. But then he--well, he apologized and freaked out and ran off.”

“Oh. Well, shit.”

“Yeah, I tried to go after him, but fucking Justin got in my way, and then he’d disappeared by the time I got outside.”

“Justin? Christ.”

“Yeah. I guess Harry must have posted that thing on Instagram by then. But I’d had enough to drink that I didn’t notice. Well, until this morning anyway.”

“So you haven’t talked to him yet?”

“No. Tried calling. He didn’t answer.”

Louis’ phone goes off multiple times and he just keeps tapping decline, but when his phone rings for the fourth or fifth time, he sees it’s Harry. 

“Is it him?”

“Yeah.” 

“I’ll just--go get a snack or something.” Liam jumps up and heads into the kitchen.

“Hey, Harry.”

“Hi, Lou.”

“So uh--what’s up?”

Harry snorts. “I assume you’ve checked your phone this morning.”

Harry sounds oddly defensive, and it puts him on edge. “Yeah, guess I’m wondering what the hell is going on.”

There’s a moment of silence before Harry clears his throat. “I’m sorry about last night--”

“I tried to catch up to you. Thought we should talk.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t think I was really in the right frame of mind to do that last night. I shouldn’t have posted that, but I just got--carried away I guess.”

Louis wipes a hand across his face. “Carried away?”

“People kept asking me about it, and I just--wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“Okay, well is that why you ran off after you--well--”

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry about the kiss and just--everything. I know you’re probably confused by what I’ve done, but I just--

It stings a bit to hear Harry regrets the kiss, but that doesn’t exactly explain why he’s setting their wedding date in front of the world and dragging them deeper into this mess.

Liam appears in the entryway between the living room and the kitchen. “Hey, Lou, you got any chips?”

“Yeah, in the tall cupboard at the top.”

“Who is that?” Harry’s voice sounds clipped and harsher than Louis’ ever heard it.

“It’s Liam.”

“Of course, it is.” There’s a distinct edge to his voice now. What the fuck?

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you certainly don’t need me around when Liam’s here, right?”

“Excuse me? Liam’s my best friend. So yeah, he’s fucking around when he’s home. Do you have a problem with that?”

“Yeah, I do. When you just ignore me as if I’m not your--” Harry stops.

An alarm siren in Louis’ head begins to go off, a screech of panic that he’s having this fight all over again with someone new. Like every fight he had with Justin over his jealousy, warning him not to even go visit Liam in Boston. “Your what, Harry? We’re not together. We were never together. And even if we _ were _ together, I could still hang out with my best friend whenever the fuck I wanted to.”

“You act like we’re together though, don’t you? Pretty convenient for you to have me around and then push me aside when you don’t need me anymore.”

“I act like we’re together? You’re the one telling everyone we’re getting married in May!”

“I did it for you!”

“Who the fuck asked you to post on Instagram that we’re getting married in five months? Because I sure as hell didn’t!”

Liam appear in the entryway again, his eyes concerned at Louis’ obvious distress. “Is everything okay?”

“Tell Liam to stay out of it.”

“What the fuck, Harry? This conversation is over. This entire thing is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, and it’s over, too.”

“NO! Louis, wait. We need to talk about this--”

Louis presses end and turns his phone off. Liam looks shell-shocked, his mouth hanging open. “That didn’t sound like it went well.”

Louis can feel the pressure building, tears close to flowing. “I guess everything’s not okay.”

“Lou, maybe you should--”

“Can we just watch a movie or something? I’m kind of a mess right now.”

“Sure, Lou. Just--I think eventually you’re going to have to really talk to him about everything.”

“I know. Just not today, okay?”

“Yep, okay, so what are we watching? Is this a Batman kind of day or a watching Peaky Blinders kind of day?”

“Definitely Batman.”

“Cool, Batman it is!”

The movie’s only been on for twenty minutes when there’s a knock at the door. “Lou?”

“Fuck, it’s Harry,” Louis hisses, sinking back into the couch. 

“Louis, please let me in! Please, can we talk?”

“No!” Louis yells from the couch. 

Liam mutes the movie and they both look at each other in silence waiting to hear if Harry leaves or if he’ll say something more. There’s a bit of a thump and then, “Please just let me in to apologize to Liam, then. Please.”

Liam shrugs and stands up. “I don’t have to let him in if you don’t want.”

Louis shakes his head no.

Liam opens the door without warning, and Harry who had been sitting against the door falls over into the doorway. He scrambles to stand and come in, but Liam stays in the doorway. 

Harry doesn’t try to make a move to pass him, but his eyes dart around the room looking for Louis. Their eyes meet over the back of the couch.

“I--I’m sorry,” Harry begins, and then focuses back on Liam. “Liam, I’m really sorry for acting jealous of your friendship with Louis. I know you’ve been an amazing friend to him, and he deserves someone like you to be his best friend. He deserves the world.”

Louis can see Liam’s face soften from here. Liam’s too quick to forgive though. He always has been. Pretty sure he still owes Liam a new scooter from when they were twelve, and he broke his. 

“It’s okay, Harry. As long as you know that there’s nothing that could come between my friendship with Louis. I’ll always be here for him no matter what.”

“Good,” Harry says with a nod. “I’ll just--go then. But um--could you tell Lou--Louis--could you tell him to contact me when he’s ready to talk to me again? But that I’ll give him his space.”

“Sure.”

Louis’ still upset, but he can’t help but roll his eyes at Harry pretending he can’t hear him talk to Liam.

“Thanks, Liam. Take care of him, yeah?”

“I will.” 

  
  


“So.”

“What?”

Niall shrugs. “Just wondering.”

“Wondering what, Niall?”

“When you’re gonna start speaking to Harry again.”

“Jesus. Has he been complaining to you?”

“If by complaining you mean, refusing to speak about it but constantly looking like he lost his best friend.”

Louis sighs and sips his beer. “I’m upset, too, you know.”

“Oh, I know. Kris Bryant and Anthony Rizzo walked into the bar ten minutes ago, and you didn’t even notice.”

“What?!” Louis whips around to look around the place and sees his favorite Cubs players currently playing pool. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

“You’re fighting with your fiance. Of course, you’re bound to be a little off.”

“Niall, you know he’s not actually my fiance.”

“Yeah, well, you both could have fooled me. And I mean, you both fooled your own families. So maybe it’s time to admit that you’re actually engaged.”

Louis sighs. “Niall. I am not engaged to Harry.”

“Do you wish you were?”

The beer bottle that was half way to his lips stops in his hand, and he sets it down instead. 

“That’s what I thought. You know, you have to talk to him sometime. He says he’s been giving you space and that you’re supposed to contact him when you’re ready. It’s been a week, Lou. Don’t you think the sooner you deal with this the better?”

“Okay, I know you’re right. But it’s just--once we talk it’ll be--actually over.”

“If you didn’t look like the saddest sack of shit right now, I would smack you upside the head. Okay, no I wouldn’t because you’d punch me in the balls. But my point is that you’re an idiot if you don’t think Harry’s madly in love with you. Call him, Lou.”

Louis pulls out his phone and opens a text with Harry. 

_ Can we talk? _

He and Niall head back to his apartment after another beer to find Harry sitting outside the door. 

Niall skids to a stop and turns around, calling over his shoulder as he practically runs out. “Okay, see you later!” 

“Hey, Lou.” Harry looks terrible. His eyes are rimmed red and a bit puffy as though he’s been sleeping about as little as Louis has. 

Louis can hardly swallow the lump in his throat. He lets him in wordlessly, and the misery that had lifted ever so briefly while with Niall descends on him again. He fidgets with the hem of his shirt as they sit opposite each other in the living room, Harry in the recliner as he perches on the edge of the couch.

“You look--sad,” Harry finally says.

“I am sad.”

Harry makes an odd gasping sound. “I’m sorry I made you sad, Lou. I never want to make you sad.”

“I’m sorry if I made you sad, too, Harry. Things just got out of hand. I know everything was all fucked up and confusing when we were acting like an engaged couple all the time. And I know I’m partly to blame for that confusion. I know I treated you like you were my fiance even when we weren’t in front of people.”

“About that. I have something I need to admit to you, and then, I’ll go and give you some space.”

Louis’ pulse quickens. 

“Louis, I fell in love with you, and I should have put a stop to everything as soon as I knew I had feelings for you. But I didn’t. I just kept going with it even though I knew you didn’t feel the same way. I just hope someday you can forgive me because I don’t want to lose you--lose your friendship.” Harry’s eyes drop to the floor. “It’s going to take me some time to get used to us not being together. I mean, I know we’re not together, but my head is really confused about it because my heart keeps telling me it’s real. And I guess I wished our engagement was real all along. You don’t have to say anything back. This is my problem, not yours, I’m just really sorry that--”

“Stop.”

Harry’s eyes dart back to his. “Sorry, do you want me to go or--”

“No. I want you to stop saying you’re sorry.”

“Okay, well--”

“I want you to pause long enough to let me say that I’m in love with you, too.”

Harry looks so honestly surprised that Louis laughs. 

“Harry, you idiot, did you really not suspect? Literally everyone we know even the ones who know the truth think we’re together.”

“I know, but I just thought it was because I’ve been so obvious!”

“Apparently, I’m not very subtle either.” Louis can’t stop the smile that’s growing larger and larger. “Did you not notice I kissed you back?”

Harry’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, I definitely noticed.”

“Then why did you run away?”

“I basically forced a kiss on you, Louis!”

“Like I couldn’t have stopped you at any moment? You gave me a full countdown to stop it from happening, you know.”

“I guess that’s true.” Harry’s lips tilt into a sideways smile. “Are you gonna let me kiss you again now?”

Louis pretends to think about it, a finger to his cheek. Then, he unfolds himself from the couch and walks slowly, deliberately, towards Harry, whose eyes grow larger the closer he gets. “Ten--”

“What are you doing?”

Louis climbs onto the chair, straddling Harry. “Nine--”

“Oh.”

“Eight--” Louis settles himself into Harry’s lap.

“Fuck.”

“Seven--” Louis whispers into Harry’s ear, pressing a kiss to his neck.

Harry whimpers.

“Six--” Louis presses a kiss to his jaw.

“I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Five--” He kisses Harry’s brow and feels Harry exhale against the skin of his neck.

“F--mmph--” He doesn’t get the word out of his mouth before Harry’s lips are on his. 

Harry’s lips release his only to say, “Couldn’t wait,” before they’re back on Louis’ as desperate as the last time they kissed. 

Louis threads his fingers through the curls at Harry’s nape and feels the press of Harry’s hands to his back and waist, holding him in place. Harry deepens the kiss right before his hands press beneath Louis’ ass and hauls him up as he stands.

It jolts Louis enough as he hangs on tightly to Harry’s shoulders that he lets out a squeak as Harry begins carrying him down the hall.

“This okay?” Harry says, his voice rough. 

“Yes, God, yes.”

Harry kicks Louis’ bedroom door shut behind him, carrying Louis to bed. “Three, two, one. Happy New Year’s,” Harry mumbles against his mouth as Louis laughs even through their kiss. Harry plops down on the bed and lays Louis gently against the pillows. He stares down at him as if memorizing every inch of his face.

“Wasn’t sure we’d ever get here,” Harry admits. 

Something twists inside him. “I’m glad we did.” 

Louis reaches for him, and Harry comes eagerly, laying his body out next to him and cradling Louis’ face with one hand. Louis has always felt the pull of Harry, right from the start, but now he sees his own push to Harry’s pull, a moon and his tides. 

Harry’s touches are careful as though at any moment Louis may tell him to stop. He slowly caresses the bare skin of his belly where his shirt has ridden up. While his touch is tentative, his eyes flame to life, and his jaw tightens. 

He’s controlling himself. 

It’s a heady feeling to have Harry’s attention on him this way, trying his best to keep himself in check. Louis decides to put an end to all this patience Harry seems to have. He runs his fingers along the front waistband of Harry’s sweatpants and feels the muscles there tighten. He loves the sound of Harry’s gasp as his hand slips inside to wrap around him.

“Louis--fuck.”

“That’s the idea. And yet we still have all our clothes on.”

Harry must be loathe to have to move Louis’ hand because he manages to hold himself up on one hand to wrestle his own shirt off. “Are you laughing at me?”

“Yes, but that was also quite impressive.” He pumps his hand loosely, listening to the catch in Harry’s breathing. “But I don’t think you’ll be able to get me naked without me having to stop touching you.”

“Fine,” Harry huffs. “But quickly, please.”

As soon as Louis’ hand slips out of his pants, Harry is on a mission. He tugs Louis’ pants off before Louis can even sit up all the way, and then rucks up his shirt, his mouth and tongue beginning a journey across Louis’ skin. “Christ, Harry.”

Harry’s patience apparently met its limit. 

His long fingers wrap around Louis’ cock as his lips find Louis’ nipple, sucking as Louis writhes beneath him. “Harry--your--Harry--clothes.” 

“Fuck.” Harry lets go, but only long enough to pull his sweatpants down his thighs, releasing his hard cock from its confines. He wraps a hand around himself and settles between Louis’ legs, taking him in his mouth. The wet, warmth feels incredible, but he wants more. 

“Harry--please--”

He licks one long stripe beneath him as he allows Louis out of his mouth. “Lube--where’s your lube?”

Before Louis can even grab it, Harry’s already got him back in his mouth. His hand clumsily bats at the things on his nightstand until he reaches the drawer pull to open it and pull out lube and a condom. Harry releases him again to sit up and grab the lube. “What do you want, Louis? I’ll give you anything. Anything you want.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Thank god.” And then Harry’s mouth is back on him, and his slick fingers are teasing at his hole. Louis’ fingers tug at Harry’s hair, which only serves to make Harry growl and slide the tip of his finger just inside. 

“Harry, please, please--want you.”

Harry moves quickly now, grabbing the condom beside them and ripping it open. As soon as he slides it on, he kneels between his legs and has the tip teasing where his finger once was. Louis grips the sheets of the bed, sweat beading on his forehead at the teasing. And then, finally, Harry is pushing inside him. Slowly, attentively, he watches Louis’ reactions.

Louis lifts his legs on either side of Harry’s broad back, wrapping them around him and urging him on. Harry sinks in a little further. “Fuck, you feel so good, Lou.”

The fullness of Harry inside him feels so right. “Come on, babe. Please.”

He gasps as Harry pulls himself back and presses back in. And then Harry moves himself forward, fists on either side of Louis’ chest as he captures his lips in a kiss as he rocks himself forward and back inside Louis. 

Pleasure builds, his muscles tightening as their bodies move in a more and more frantic rhythm. Harry whispers words of love and desire as he grasps Louis’ cock in one hand and moves it in unison with their bodies. And then Louis is gasping into Harry’s mouth as he comes, and Harry sinks in fully, his body stuttering its own release.

Harry eases out of him with a groan and flops onto the bed next to him, turning to Louis. He looks quite pleased with himself. It’s a fair thought. 

Harry reaches over and takes Louis’ hand, placing it over his chest so that Louis can feel his heartbeat beneath his palm. “My heart has been yours since the beginning, Louis.”

“Since I locked us in a club bathroom?”

“It’s not every day the man of my dreams locks me in a bathroom with him. Felt like my lucky day.”

“That’s what I called you, you know.”

“What?”

“When I first saw you, in my head, I called you my dream man.”

“Well, it was mutual. Right from the start.”


	7. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE**

  
  
  


Six months later in Paris…

As he and Harry sit atop Montmartre with their picnic lunch on the steps of Sacre-Coeur, he can’t help but think back on how they got here. Though of course they came clean with their family and friends about their engagement, or rather their lack of one, they decided it wasn’t necessary to share that or anything else with the rest of the world. It helps that they have private social media accounts now.

The panoramic view of Paris is lovely, and he turns to say as much to Harry when he notices Harry looks a bit pale. Is he sweating? It’s not really that warm out. Harry drains his glass of wine, which is slightly alarming. “Are you--”

And then suddenly, Harry is on one knee in front of him, his hand outstretched with the ring Louis once wore. “Louis, I know we’ve only really been together for six months, but I knew you were the one since the first time I asked you to come with me to Paris. I once proposed by saying that these last months have been the best of my life, and I can still say that and mean it even more today than I did the first time. I love you, Louis. And I want to spend the rest of my life loving you. I know so much more about you now than I did when I proposed the first time, and I still want to be the man who keeps learning you. Louis Tomlinson, will you marry me?”

Louis smiles as the sun peeks out from behind a cloud in a blue Parisian sky and shines down upon them. “Yes. Always.”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If you liked the fic, please leave kudos and comments! 
> 
> You can [reblog the fic post for this fic here](https://allwaswell16.tumblr.com/post/189978671956/from-the-start-a-fake-relationship-fic-by). Or you can [retweet it here](https://twitter.com/kingsofthings/status/1202577257136578561?s=20). Thank you!!!!!!!!


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